Lost As Orphans
by HeathyrFeathyr
Summary: Sir Guy of Gisborne is fed up. Marian has broken and shamed him one too many times, so what else it he to do but find a new drug? As he becomes enveloped in a whirlwind romance, Marian finds herself becoming increasingly jealous and even vindictive. Does she actually love Guy? Does she have a chance of getting him away from his beautiful new love? Reviews Appreciated!
1. Orphans

"Really, Guy, it is very sweet of you, but I simply don't have the time right now." Marian plastered on a meek smile. In a period of dejection Gisborne dropped his eyes to the lower corners of the room; the burning sting of salted wounds pierced his gut as his pride was clawed apart yet again. He tucked his arms across his stomach even tighter. His throat clenched as they both noticed Marian trying not to watch him.

"Marian, if you had ever tried to make the time -"

"Guy, I have several letters to write for my father…" she momentarily glanced at the door and immediately regretted it, knowing that it would come across as throwing the man in black from the room. He noticed. With a gulp and lick of the sore Guy slowly left her chambers and headed down the corridor alone. Why, he pounded in his own head, was she so stupid? Everything he did with selflessness or sugar was shrugged away; everything he did with blood stains and guilt was shoved under a heated spotlight. Years of his life and nights of his sanity had been devoted to her. Perhaps the better word was wasted. Gisborne was beginning to feel physically ill from the frustration of it all. Maybe he should just give up… what a shame that isn't in his nature. Meanwhile Marian let out a sigh and tapped the feather pen to the desk a few times before continuing her writings, letting a pang of guilt absorb her. She was not particularly thrilled about always harming Guy's nerves, but she could think of no other way to get him off her back. It had been a few years that he had been courting her and she could not find any more polite ways to decline. Like a child, he had to be fronted with sternness to know she was serious. Marian tucked away a curl and forced the thoughts away from herself as she kept to her letters.

On the ground floor of the castle, Vesey was outdoing himself when it came to villainy. He rapped his pudgy fingers on the wooden table in the entry hall and waved aside an armor clad guard whose muscle stood in the way.

"Well, my dear, if you just give me the 400 crowns you can be on your way." He did not break eye contact with the slender brunette visitor on the other side of the tabletop. Her wide green eyes puffed up with surprise as her rose lips fell a bit apart; he loved this moment with each person he saw.

"My Lord, we had agreed on 250…" her voice fell as her humility overcame the moment.

"What can I say; taxes went up as of yesterday." A ruby shone from his foul grin, giving an assertion of wealth alongside the flash on unbarred cruelty. The crimson on his hands was clear in that smile.

"I do not want to overstep my line, Sire, but I cannot afford 400 crowns. The children will not have food for the next month."

"That is not my problem." Vesey's eyes trailed to the side door where Sir Guy of Gisborne had worked his way in. The Sherriff's associate had not expected company, and he caught his breath at the surprise.

"Sire, this rent is for Kirkslee's orphanage; I cannot run an orphanage where I cannot feed the children." Her slim waist shrunk as oxygen fell out in hopelessness.

"Kirkslee's Abbey has an orphanage?" Guy inquired thoughtfully as her tall frame spun to see him. The girl, who seemed all of nineteen or twenty, glanced to the Sherriff to see if she may answer. With his silence she continued.

"Yes sir. Well, it shall. I have come from Derbyshire to start one up, but the dues have changed and now…" She fidgeted her fingers on the grungy fabric of her simple dress. Guy watched the motion and looked over to his boss, who was slurping up the moment of her failure. Here he found his dooming trap. Gisborne unknowingly craved a compensation for his disaster with Marian. His long time crush had yet again coldly disallowed his naked heart , and yet here stood another brunette beauty, but this one desperately needed his help. Subconsciously he wanted to make Marian happy and so foolishly acted. He reached back to the rear of his belt and extracted a small leather pouch, pouring out 400 crowns of the contents. He looked into the young girl's large eyes and pressed the coins down before his boss, paying her debt. The joy fell from Vesey's face and melted to the floorboards.

"Oh, sir, there is no need –"

"Gisborne!" Vesey spat through his teeth. The leather clad man gave the Sherriff a stone stare before turning to the girl.

"Your orphanage is open." He gave her a small nod. His superior stormed off with the cash as she bowed her head down to Gisborne, washed away in modesty.

"Sir I… I have no idea how I could ever repay you." She looked into his strong face as a small smile cracked across.

"That's not necessary." He donated a minute shake of his head while inscribing a mental image of the newcomer. She was tall and very thin with a well carved face, milky skin, and prominent emerald eyes.

"April, sir. My name is April, and you are more than welcome to come to the orphanage for anything, food, shelter, I will see to it – "

"Again, Lady April, there is no need." Guy's smile fell a bit flat at the sense of the compassionate move he had just made for a stranger. How ridiculous he was being for nothing more than a pretty girl. If it wasn't for that auburn hair that had been pinned into curls like Marian's…. Gisborne sensed a stirring that informed him that he didn't care at all about some orphanage on the fringe of town. April tucked away a curl and placed a slender hand on his bicep, shaking him loose from his train of thought. Their eyes interlocked and he experienced something new from a woman – genuineness.

"I am in your debt." She lifted her palm and briefly brought it up to hover above his cheek, her flesh just registering his stubble. April recognized the inappropriateness of her motion and quickly tucked away her hands with a smile.

"I am glad to do it." Guy heard himself blurt out. Wait, what? He looked inside to determine why he had lied, and it would stick to him all day like fly paper that he had told her the truth.


	2. A Far Ride From Sherwood

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Each gallop of the stallion stabbed into Guy's back as he made it back into the camp just outside of Nettlestone. His body, and his mind, were worn rugged and ached with the work of the past week. An occupation of ordering about soldiers would not be so bad if Vesey would hire a cluster that could actually manage to do something themselves, he mulled over in his mind. The Sherriff foolishly demanded that the imperial troops not have the intelligence or wits or rise up against him, which inevitably led to failure and incompetence abound. Guy was done carrying the workload of thirty men. He was unaware that just yards away Marian was pressed against the trees giving her goodbyes to Robin of Locksley.

She felt cloaked by the foliage and wrapped up by the branches and shrubs off the path. With one last kiss Robin finally extracted himself from her gravitational pull, missing the taste of her lips already. Her hazel eyes sealed up the moment because both Marian and the outlaw were fully aware that their rendezvous was coming to a close.

"You need to go," Robin whispered with a flavor of Irish words, "You can't be found out of the castle." Lady Knighton nodded solemnly and tightened her mouth for a moment – it was falling into dusk. Purple would soon streak the skies as an orange glow tumbled down the horizon.

"Come for me soon." She pleaded. Robin's beard parted for a smile, knowing the deal. They exchanged visits – he went to her and she would travel to him, never twice in a row except for emergencies.

"Eh, it's a bit of a ride from Sherwood, Marian. I don't see it happening soon." He said, but could not pull off a serious expression nor keep a steady tone. She swatted his chest hard and pushed back a few pieces of hair from her shoulders.

"Well I shall make it worth your while then." She sultrily jabbed, nudging around his body and proceeding to the trail. Her soft soled shoes scuffled to the border of the path into town as Robin chipped in his farewells.

"I love you." He tossed over with a heartfelt passion.

"And I you, Robin Hood." She flung back without turning to see his wave. She stepped up onto the stirrup of her mare and slid onto the back of the animal. Marian was fully aware that she had to race back to Nottingham, and she had no doubt it was possible. A person with her skill in equestrian riding would have no problem, she conceitedly pondered whilst kicking off and pounding south. Coming up to a fork, she veered left but halted instantaneously as she noticed a group of guards in polished armor and yellow sleeves. Gisborne's men. The hooves of her horse skidded and flailed on the rocky soil at the sudden change of direction, rocking her body unsteadily and plucking at the ears of the guards. Marian stormed over to the other side of the split in the road and slipped herself and the mare into a small pocket between two trees. It was poor cover. Recognizing this, she tapped her heels and pulled out back onto the thoroughfare.

"Marian?" bolted a voice from a few sapling trunks away. She shut her eyes and pasted on a porcelain face; she would recognize that baritone voice from much further away. Gisborne strolled his own black horse up parallel to hers and lowered his chin. Although each muscle in his face depicted sternness, his crystal blue eyes were flecked with surprise, "You are not to be out of the castle."

"Sir Guy, I know," she hoarsely hammed it up and avoided looking at his looming presence, "but really, I just needed air. One cannot breathe between stone walls."

"There is a courtyard." He dashed in on her excuse. Marian could not start to realize just how much Guy was boiling up inside at her misconduct; she crossed him both personally and professionally each day of the week and he had had enough.

"Guy, please." she stared up with doe eyes and tried to appeal to his affections. Unfortunately for her, they had scabbed over and seeing her riding easily half an hour away from the fortress of Nottingham. He waved over a few soldiers and sharply tugged his reigns to stop his horse's fidgeting.

"These men will escort you to your chambers, where we will discuss your ridiculous behavior when I return. It is your choice whether I find you in your room or a jail cell." Gisborne watched the truthful sadness hit her just before a gauze of phony remorse came into play. His nostrils flared at her games. He watched as the metal clad men led the woman away and could not push the frustration down; the constant lies to his face and false sorrow really ate at his heart. He could not bear the constant deceit and veiled hatred she held in her deep eyes. A woman's eyes were nothing but tools with which to manipulate you. Looking down at his leather glove Guy's mind suddenly flipped to last week; green eyes. Those blue eyes were fake, poisonous, and offensive weapons, however green eyes had only done him good. Green eyes were grateful. April was respectful.

Gisborne tugged his gloves up and stared along the dusty path that led to a deep blue horizon. Kirkslee's Abbey was only about ten minutes away; he could certainly make it by nightfall and be back in time to finish packing up the camp before he needed to sleep. The fresh scent of healthy pine floated into his nostrils; would April even want to see him? Sure she said she was 'indebted,' but all women are independent, selfish liars. Or were they? Gisborne's curiosity pushed the stallion forward towards the north road to the Abbey, giving him no time to prepare his next move. His chest tightened in anticipation of hearing honesty. This, he feared, would only be a letdown.


	3. What I Have Purchased

The occasional flying gnat had found its way around Kirkslee's Abbey now that a slight chill had come forward to welcome the approaching evening. The sun had passed its stage of blinding brightness at the set of the day and had now settled in to a warm reddish glow that touched just above the top of the trees in the neighboring woods. April tucked straight strands of auburn hair behind her ears and continued her work, glancing over to a boy who knelt beside her to help.

"Okay, Isaac, once this bucket is full it should be enough to get cooking." She warmly told the eight year old boy. He nodded and they continued to pluck snap green beans from their home and toss them into a rickety old wash barrel. Some of the other children were already in the kitchen heating up boiling pots of water and stirring stew that had been simmering all afternoon; meanwhile the younger kids tidied up the mess hall and set the table for supper. Alex, a sixteen year old blond boy, came out from the budding orphanage to take the tub from April's hands and get to cooking.

"Thanks mate," she smiled kindly. Lucy crawled around a trellis that clambered up the stone wall of the building and tore off some veggies that she proceeded to directly eat. Alex swept up the toddler and chuckled, reminding her not to spoil supper. On the other side of the property, Guy was dismounting from his aging stallion. He had tied his faithful companion to a wooden hitching post and gave him a sturdy pat on the haunches before slipping off his gloves and hesitantly wading to the front door. Voices could be heard both inside the building as well as from behind. There was no fence so laughter and jeers of all ages floated about, reminding Gisborne how much he disliked children. He had gotten from the trail through a few steps of grass before hitting a flagstone path. Guy stared up at a large iron crucifix that hung prominently over the door; it was, after all, on the lot behind the Abbey. He changed his gaze and glanced over to a little girl only a couple of meters away who held posies in her hands. She stared at him and he stared back, no warmth present in either of them. An older boy with golden hair came to the small child and held her shoulders as he hardly stared down the intruder. Gisborne felt unwelcomed by this kid and was not sure why; he had more than likely wronged him in some way. Was he responsible for that boy being an orphan? Didn't matter to Gisborne. Another teenage boy came from the door and folded his arms heavily, trying to push up his biceps to appear more threatening. Guy nearly laughed at his attempt.

"We alrea'y paid the rent, we have no need for your sort here."

"I am not here for money," he sneered, "I am here for April."

"She ain't done nothin' to ya." The boy quickly defended. Gisborne glanced to the side at another pair of kids and sniffed. How many of those things were here?

"Where is she?" Guy did his best to keep from sounding threatening, but he was clearly frustrated. He knew he wouldn't have trusted himself, either. The teenager was clearly scanning his mind, racing to find something to say, darting his eyes around for a distraction.

"Sir Guy?" Came a voice. He spun to the left to see April coming round the side of the house with a small child on her hip. Both her hands and the fringe of her dress were a bit wet from watering each of the vegetables and flower beds before finishing up supper.

"Lady April," he greeted, noting an embarrassing sheepish grin making its way to his cheeks, "I am glad to see you are well." He watched as she bit her lip and swept some ginger hair from the eyes of the two year old girl in her arms. April's slim frame approached him and set the child to go free as she touched his arm.

"What brings you here tonight?" she smiled back. He looked down at her fingers on his jacket and froze in a crystal of this moment. Her touch was tender, warm. Guy watched her eyes and realized that he had not said anything.

"Well, I was just… about. Wanted to see what I had purchased." He awkwardly joked; kidding around is not something he does too often. April shooed away the gaggle of orphans and led him inside to a pack of stares. It was unsettling to have so many sets of eyes on you at once, Gisborne thought, how did she manage to run a place like this? The older children seemed perfectly suited to tend to meals and caring for the younger ones, though, so maybe she didn't have it so bad. She was certainly not focused on her own interests here. They wound about to a back room with a handful of books and several short tables and miniature chairs with animals painted on the seats. There was, however, a full standard area for grownups as well. Looking about the blue room, Gisborne gathered that it was a make-shift and lowly stocked library.

"The scribe from the Abbey comes twice a week to teach them how to read and write." Lady April shattered the silence. She motioned for him to sit but, as a gentleman, he waited for her to repose first.

"So then, you read?" he flared up the conversation, knowing he had nothing in particular to discuss. He just had to be with a pretty girl who wouldn't betray him for a few minutes.

"Oh, no, no," She quickly denied, "I'm just a blacksmith's daughter." Guy nodded and realized he was smiling at her; he quickly cut this out.

"So how many, um…" he waved his hand around the doorway to the kitchen vaguely and she chuckled. That laugh was precious, he thought to himself.

"Children are here?" she completed for him, "I have thirty three here. Eight or nine are older, teenagers, so they help about. Half of them are illegitimate children and the other half are, well… undesirables."

"Undesirables?"

"Well, you know. Deformed, uh, mentally unhealthy. That sort of thing." April fidgeted her fingers on the edge of the wooden tabletop and averted her glance.

"You don't want to discuss it… are they yours?"

"No!" she was quick to defend, "No, no. I think they are all God's children and they are all wonderful. Why doesn't everybody else? Makes me a bit sad is all." Gisborne took his rough palm and put it atop her slender hand. In this three minutes he had had more discovery and honesty about her than he had from five years with Marian; if he could even say he was with her. April's humility floored him, clearly she was raised in a strict religious manner, and yet she seemed to be all of eighteen or a little more. Her prominent cheek bones glowed when she grinned at him.

"You have children, Sir Guy? Married?"

"Not so long as there are girls as gorgeous as you out there." He giggled and punched himself in the betraying gut. _Seriously?_ He scolded. The thick and settled air of the room became suddenly apparent to Guy as he struggled to regain control and tighten a grip on the reigns of composure; he was here to settle down from his irritation with Marian, not wind up with another Seth milling about. Gisborne desperately shut that memory into a vault and stowed away into a dank recess of his mind. No one, especially an innocent girl with sympathy for orphans, should know about that miscalculation. April laid her left hand over his and bit her lip through a smile. Maybe his flirting didn't sound as stupid as he thought it did.

"And what is it you do besides sweep women of the church off their feet?" They shared a chuckle but Gisborne quickly became washed away in panic. What did he do? Maim tax payers. Imprison weapon makers. Fight in a radical movement against the King.

"I command the army and collect taxes." He vaguely let it go at that.

"Hmm, important man, then. I had best butter you up if you do my taxes." April squeezed his hand. Guy's mouth remained open as he kept comparing the orphanage keeper and the Lady of Knighton. This is what romance was supposed to be, wasn't it? Not lies and heartache. As he looked into her emerald eyes, he thought perhaps, maybe, with true determination, it was time to tell Marian goodbye.


	4. A Human Being

Spring sunshine was drenching Nottingham as lunchtime rolled around. Through the windows of Gisborne's chambers the light beamed in with a golden tint that bathed concentrated sections of the stone floor and highlighted dust particles teeming about in the air, giving Guy something to watch as he lounged. The Sherriff's associate still lie in bed in comfortable trousers wrapped up in a goose feather comforter. He had not exited his chambers, nor the bed, since he arrived home last night. There was far too much to do to worry about eating anything to break his fast; he had to come to a decision. The choice itself was not so hard, but convincing himself to do it was a trial of hellacious flames.

Even as a child, Guy wanted Marian for himself. Her round face, the soft curls, her rosy cheeks. Then she developed that blasted attitude – it was nothing but off putting. He has, however, put an incredible amount of time and money into keeping her. She did, however, punch him in the face at the altar. Guy kept finding that with every excuse he could find a wrong doing on her part that demanded he trade her in for a more affectionate girl; one, perhaps, like April. Marian was a liar. A manipulative cheat. An ugly lover in a beautiful disguise. Gisborne found himself wrestling with the truth that she did not love him at all, rather, she found him useful to her own needs with her father and the peasants. She probably enjoyed getting attention, too, but it was doubtful that she favored it in particular from him. Guy was well aware of this fact, but it is so easy to bargain and deny anything in your brain when you refuse to feel it in your heart.

Nobody could promise that a future were to develop with humble little April, though. Could he persuade himself to get up each day without her or Marian? What if he had no outlet to coax attention from? But was it worth the headache and sleepless nights over Lady Knighton? He was not thinking so anymore.

Guy eventually found his way into the wardrobe and then to the kitchen to fill his aching stomach that growled and yearned with famine. After a quickly dissolved bread and fruit, he was left wondering what to do with his day. All the matters at his camp had been taken care of ahead of schedule and, with heavy relief, Vesey was nowhere to be found. Guy regretted never having developed a hobby. He moseyed through the courtyard and wound up on the upper levels of Nottingham castle's outdoor mezzanine, sweeping his eyes past numerous guards and trying to focus on the little bit of vegetation that poked through pockets of the fortress. Time led Gisborne towards one of the doors to the ever atrocious dungeon where he noticed who else but Marian loitering. Guy rubbed his eyes and let out a heavy breath that drug out his energy and joy; time to scold her yet again for acting out of line.

"Marian." He gave with a very fatigued tone. The short girl scuffed a wide step away from the door and puckered her lips a bit to grease the cogs; it would not work.

"Sir Guy," she heavily said, "I am so glad you're here."

"I'm sure." He sourly replied. Lady Marian swallowed and searched his eyes to find that, unfortunately, ploys were not her best bet today. She told herself to keep it simple.

"It's just… well, I heard some cries and I wanted to ensure there was enough water for everyone."

"Marian, it is a dungeon. I sincerely hope there is crying," Guy's flatness made them both uncomfortable, "Why are you here?"

"I told you…" her eyes moved about and found their way to the floor. Gisborne rolled his.

"I don't want to see you here." He lowly demanded. Marian lightly scratched a part of her scalp and glanced away before putting a hand on his arm, just like April had. Hers, though, felt stiff and artificial. Signs of affection should not be routine or drill.

"Are you tired from your work in Nettlestone?" she attempted to drag his attention away before he accused her of trying to smuggle away the jail key, which may or may not have actually been the plan. Gisborne sharply tugged away his arm and folded it over his muscled chest like a bratty child.

"Stay away from here." Guy warned before breezing past her. Marian stood in the same place for a few moments before scurrying away from the dungeon; what was that? Sure, they had conversations before where he did not profess love, but that was rather clinical and cold. She found it quite peculiar. She wanted to believe that the strain of business had run him out but that didn't fit well enough to be comfortable. Could he really be that upset about finding her riding in the evening? After all, it was not nearly the first time. Maybe Vesey was chewing his hide today. Oh well, Marian thought with pure confidence that Robin Hood would find a way to spring the innocent prisoners somehow.

Back in her chambers Marian found time to remove her exceptionally heavy pair of gemstone earrings and toss them into a velvet box that held several fashion trinkets. As they plopped in, she swept aside a few pins to see a shining silver necklace that Guy had bestowed upon her shortly before the disastrous excuse for a wedding that had occurred. She could only recall wearing it once. It truly was beautiful and had to have cost a pretty penny or four, was it not stolen property. Marian fished it out and stroked the piece a few times before clasping it around her neck. Maybe this would cheer Gisborne up at supper. With a peek through the window she found that Guy was perched outside seated upon the stone wall of a walkway; she hated using him. Honestly, she did. Though he was awful at it, he was, in fact, a human being. She had even seen him grow up a few years ahead of herself. Marian could not help that all of her life her heart had been devoted to Robin and her mind captive to his brazen will and quality soul – it was who she was. Her chest felt briefly heavy with guilt before her mind turned to other matters in her own life, namely sorting through mail at the castle for any juicy tidbits to divulge to outlaws. She was unaware that her hold on Gisborne was completely gone.


	5. Vulnerable

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"Are you serious?" April's jaw hinged to a new extreme; she was floored.

"Absolutely. I believe the fort can be held down just fine for a couple of hours, don't you?" Guy glanced over to one of the teenage boys, Max. He was used to seeing the Sherriff's associate coming round once or twice a week. He was not fond of this man of black at all, but he knew how excited April became over the whole deal and so Max had agreed to manage the orphanage for the day. The girl of Derbyshire turned to see the band of orphans that were playing in the spring grass and chewed on the inside of her cheeks before bursting with joy and allowing anticipation to leak from her pores. April hopped as quickly as she could over to the strawberry colored horse that Guy had brought with him, being careful of course not to frighten the creature. Gisborne's own ebony stallion whinnied at the accompanying mere as April pressed her face to her snout.

"She is truly beautiful." She romantically thanked him with her eyes, giving Guy an overwhelming wash of warmth and tingling in the nerves. He had done good for someone special.

"I have been assured she is excellently trained – you should have no trouble riding through the forest with me today."

"Well we aren't needing to be winning a race, are we?" the slender girl pulled away from the animal and took a wide step to her quickly developing beau, sliding his palm between both of hers and squeezing lightly. She was tall and did not have to look too far up to see the glow on his visage.

"I promise to give you only the best." His baritone oath was one he intended to keep. April was giddy and rushed back to the pair of horses, crunching her riding boots on the rocky soil before slipping into a stirrup. Gisborne took a few long strides to hold her feminine waist and assist the girl up high before climbing himself onto the opposite creature. She dramatically extended a hand and a giggle to allow him to lead the way. With a wink he obliged, kicking in his heels and starting their afternoon trip.

Budding scents and lofty butterflies whizzed past as the riders exited Kirkslees's property and progressed towards the adjacent river, announcing the opening of a new and gorgeous season in Nottingham. Guy yanked in the stallion's speed a bit so that he could file back next to his crush that was close behind; the black horse was a bit disgruntled at this, after all, he was used to thundering after Robin Hood. The water in the brook was nearly as crystal clear as Gisborne's eyes as it lazily meandered over smooth stones to the southeast. The pair had gone about twenty minutes along the edge of the waterfront before April allowed her horse to stop and scuffle her feet a bit. The orphanage manager dismounted at a patch of blackberry bushes that were neighbored by yellow trumpet flowers, cheerfully popping a few in her mouth with a sheepish grin. Guy met her at the shrub. She plucked another fruit and held it before him, silently telling him to open his mouth and, as he obliged, she shared the berry and plopped down at the riverbank. Gisborne sat beside her and felt his cheeks burn as he made sure to complete contact and have their shoulders touch; the two people from opposite lands took in the scene without saying a word. April watched as liquid slowly eroded white stone and breeze nudged and persuaded tall flower stalks to bend slightly and share their pollen. Guy was too wrapped up in his companion to notice where they were, however beautiful the landscape. Her baby blue tunic and black riding trousers were obviously not worth too much money, but they were adorable and perfect on her. He would not trade it for anything he could have bought. Stick straight auburn hair brushed by in the wind and touched the base of her shoulder blades as she shifted her weight to lean towards Gisborne, distracting him momentarily from her smile.

"It was very kind of you to bring me out today." April rather professionally thanked him as if he were an uncle or business associate.

"I did not want to see the end of the day without you, April," He sincerely said with a hush. She chuckled a bit at the flattery and watched a handful of ripe blackberries snap from the vine in the breeze, "Honestly."

"Honestly, Sir Guy, you are too kind."

"Please, just Guy. I have asked you before." He rested a hand over hers in the velvet grass. The electricity of his eyes jolted her retinas and her modesty, demanding she glance away yet again. April let out a sigh.

"You tall and handsome men are too much for me." She forwardly joked, pressing her humility.

"So there is another?" Guy bantered with raised eyebrows as he fed off of her playful energy.

"Ah no, that was rather long ago..." she momentarily drifted back but never dared to abandon his company. April turned back to him and put her hand over his, stacking theirs up higher.

"And how did that work out? Will I have to arrest him?" Gisborne bowed his head closer to hers. She giggled at his offer.

"No, really. It was nothing but a crush. He went off to live with a farmer any who, so there is no contest."

"He was one of your orphans?" Guy questioned as he watched the river in his peripheral vision. He did not, however, miss the enlargement of her emerald eyes at the notion; they then went to a bandage of covering something in her soul. His own gaze narrowed at her first episode of secluding from him. The clouds stopped marching along the skyline as the air fell heavy in his next breath, "You were an orphan with him, weren't you? In Derbyshire?"

"I am so sorry." Her throat closed on the words as April attempted to tug away her hands, but he would not let her. Guy kept her anchored to him. She had become upset in a matter of seconds and it was fathomable that tears would soon become a piece of the afternoon.

"For what?" he immediately chased, but she did not reply. He hounded it again.

"I was an orphan; an undesirable." April cleanly divulged before looking back at him. It took her brain some time to register that his expression was unchanging, giving a hope that his opinion had in no way advanced based on this knowledge.

"Why are you apologizing for it?" Guy furrowed his brows. He saw the pale girl lick her lips and pucker them out a little.

"Well, orphans aren't really known as valuable people. Especially to someone of your caliber."

"They are all special and wonderful; isn't that what you told me?"

"Yes… to me," she let a small smirk tug before continuing, "but not the world. My father passed away when I was young. Well, rather, he was exiled – leprosy. I was tossed into a home and never given a family. Not a soul wanted me milling about… So, I grew up, moved out, and started a better place here at the Abbey. Somewhere that the children know they are loved by at least God if not in this life." April held her breath. All of the dirty laundry was now exposed to oxygen, each reason society deemed her as a lesser now dangled before her crush, and all weight on her chest seemed to multiply. Guy's answer came too slowly for her nerves.

"My father was a leper," he donated. Now it was Gisborne's turn to break eye contact, "exiled when I was a teenager." April's lips fell open a bit.

"So… you do not think I am some disgusting leper? You understand?"

"The title marred my family for years. None of us, though, were any different." Guy let out a stone breath of anxiety. This territory that he was pounding over was unheard of – he just told her one of his biggest shames and secrets. Society did not accept that past. Why would she? Gisborne was taken aback that their childhoods had so many parallels and yet they were opposite human beings altogether; she was too splendid to have his burdens. His skin itched as he removed the leather and flesh to expose the blood in his pounding heart to another soul, screaming alerts at his brain that the deflective shield he relied on was down, and that he had just become vulnerable.

"You do not judge me any differently, I shall not you."

"You are truly the most wonderful man I remember ever meeting."

"Oh, I sincerely doubt that." Guy had a small laugh as he thought about his occupation, but she held a serious expression. April took her hand from his and placed both palms on his cheeks, feeling the dark stubble on her skin and sensing his warmth.

"Honest." She whispered. Guy let down a swallow and abandoned his own mind in her deep eyes, casting aside his doubts and fears from their heart to heart. He put a hand on the back of her head and ran his calloused thumb along her neck before inching his body closer. Their skin resonated to the universe. He pulled her in and parted his lips, nearly shivering when hers aligned with his. The couple's kiss was tender and knowing without any hesitation or verdict. April's rose mouth was just as gentle as he imagined and her bottom lip fit perfectly between his own. It was here that Sir Guy of Gisborne lost his search for acceptance. He had also finally found a word to describe her: sunshine.


	6. New Found Heartache

The whinnying of the pair of horses reflected the chirping of Guy's soul as he and April wound back down the pounded dirt path to Kirkslee's Orphanage. The aching grin across his beard had not vanished since the moment he touched his lips to hers and he still wore it now as he helped her from the mere, laughing at her adorable giggles. The pleasure did not dwindle as the evening crept across Nottingham's sky. As purple layered itself into the clouds children painted hasty reliefs and portraits of their friends with dyes and finger paints that they had made earlier that week with April. Gisborne, surprisingly even to himself, enjoyed seeing the kids having their fun. Normally he couldn't stand the squealing and high strung energy fueled acrobatics, but everything in the world seemed to fit perfectly together. Darkness, though, had to find its way over and thieve away the day. April purposefully tugged open the front door with crippling reluctance as Guy had to say his goodbyes. He slipped on his worn leather gloves and took her slim and fragile hand, leading her out to the front lawn and shutting the door with his free arm. The privacy excited him as he recognized that he could have those lips again.

"You have given me the most fantastic afternoon, Guy." April giddily thanked him.

"You have given me the most fantastic dreams." He answered with a sugar tone as he held her hips. The orphanage keeper laid her hands upon his shoulders and donated a gentle kiss to him before nuzzling into his neck for a moment of paradise.

"I cannot wait until I see you again." She told him with wide eyes of precious jewels; he was a prisoner of how she made his entire body feel. The electricity that trickled through his nerves fizzed with excitement, the blood danced, and the brain fell blank. He pilfered away a few more kisses before taking his stallion back to his home for the evening. All was truly well, he thought, in the land of Nottinghamshire.

Marian, though, was not nearly so pleased with the day. She had her passionate fling in the woods with Robin Hood, as was planned, but from there it all toppled south.

"Goodbye, my love!" Marian heard Robin call after her as she filtered out from the cover of the shrubbery in the forest. With a flirty glance back, she rode her crisp white horse out to the dusty trail back towards the ever looming stone fortress in Nottingham where, inevitably, she would spend the next several hours. The Lady Knighton was fortunate to have avoided the dungeons after her increasing count of run ins with Gisborne during rather compromising times. If not for her slight elevation to a sniff of nobility, it would have been all over. She had taken note that Guy was pulling away from her lately; at least that's how it physically felt. He no longer invited her to dinners or shopping dates, nor did he give her slips through the cracks due to his personal desires. Their relationship had become as flat as the cold pressed metal of a broadsword. Marian was able to brush this out of her mind until this evening.

Orange peeked and bled between leaves on the horizon as Marian took her road over a small lull in the terrain. She could distinctly hear the trickling of the stream nearby and could not help herself; after all, Gisborne was out for the day and therefore her leash was loosened. The mere was led over lush vegetation to the gentle slope that rolled off into chilling waters. Small bubbles were birthed along the stream that Marian followed along the bank, not paying a great amount of mind to how far along the river she had gotten. Once her daydream dissolved, Marian Knighton realized she was approaching the rear of Kirkslee's Abbey. On the other side of the chapel children were giggling and playing and no doubt taking part in plenty of adventure games. As a maternal woman she peeked around to see what the commotion was for exactly. There were a quartet of guards the other day, she recalled, that had mentioned a new orphanage starting up in the area; maybe, with luck, she could get them on the roster for team Hood.

Hooves scuffled to the corner of the holy building as hazel eyes snuck around. As a light breeze brushed across the canvas of the country Marian had to wipe away some curls to be sure she had seen what she thought was there. And it was true. There stood a rather large shack adorned in religious crosses with trellises of vegetables and pots of flowers abound, not to mention the handful of kids running about at all stages of life. Further down the flagstone path stood Sir Guy of Gisborne in his tallest stance gripping his breath, but surprisingly he also held something else. A brunette. She was rather slim with a carved chin line and rich chestnut hair that stretched down her back, no doubt beautiful, but no doubt inappropriate for Gisborne. At least this is what she immediately deemed. As the Sherriff's associate connected lips with her Marian felt the muscles at the hinge of her jaw solidify. A heat was injected intravenously and stabbed at each capillary with ferocity, not allowing her to look away. She felt her eyebrows stiffen and sink down in disapproval. Her issues, though, were far more than physical.

A wad fastened itself to her lungs and hung tight while she tried to remember the process of breathing. Marian could not believe Gisborne's audacity; he might as well paint the castle with messages slandering her and degrading her every move. Marian felt stupid. Had she been fooled into thinking that Guy was ever interested in her? Surely it was real. He tried to marry her! And yet here he stood interlocked with a younger and thinner girl, grinning a stupid grin with a dumb melody in his step. She thought of every time he had confessed some sort of affection to her in a cluster of memories linking together with zero coherence. Marian's mind had cancelled out her romantic meeting with Robin and never even mentioned his name as she sat traumatized. It was as if he, and his love, didn't exist. Here was only Guy, Marian, and the girl who had taken her attention. It took the total amount of her stubbornness to keep the horse from charging over and confronting Gisborne; prison was not something she wanted to look forward to in her evening.

Marian snapped the reigns as Guy went to his own horse and mounted with poise. Lady Knighton stormed in her mind and manner on the road to the castle to dwell on her newfound heartache.


	7. Was This True?

Hey y'all PLEASE send in a review or message – I would love to know what you think about it so far and I would adore hearing which woman you want to win!

"It is an emergency, please," Marian dictated pressingly to the guardsman, "I have to see him. Immediately." The silver man nodded and continued down the corridor of the castle, plates of armor clanging as his knees bent for locomotion. The metallic figure eclipsed incoming sunlight as Marian pressed her chin into the thin side of her open door, practicing her routine mentally. After a moment she retreated back to her quarters and awaited her visitor's arrival. The Lady Knighton was reviewing her clothing choice in the polished metal mirror at the rear of her room when the knock came, making her heart freeze and then burst back into overtime, giving her mind a million thoughts. She had selected to pull a dress out of retirement that was quite flirty. Originally bestowed to her during one of Sherriff Vesey's stints to scam a German count out of money at gambling, she planned to let moths take advantage of it and suck up the fabric; now, though, she needed the suggestive nature.

Marian clicked open the wooden barrier of privacy to her chambers to reveal Sir Guy of Gisborne propped against the doorframe with his elbow. His head was low as he looked up to see her pale face.

"Guy, I am so glad you came. Please come in." she hurriedly said as he passed the threshold. She was quick to close the door.

"You called for me?" he lowly grumbled as his arms folded inside the leather jacket to cross his chest and shield his now active heart. Gisborne could now allow his anger and hatred for Marian to flow as freely as the river he had kissed April by; he was no longer crippled by the constant beatings of his blind affections.

"Yes." She stepped over to the window and shot him a glance to follow her. He declined the invitation and scratched his beard for a moment as she puckered her lips and fell silent. Guy released a hefty exhale; an itch of annoyance scratched at his veins and scrunched his jaw as he recognized Marian wasting his time yet again.

"And what is it that you needed so desperately that I could not finish my supper?"

"You," she twirled to face him with doe eyes and a deep draw of air that puffed out her chest, "I needed you, Guy. I need a man that can protect me."

"From what?"

"Anything. Everything. Guy, I need to know that you are there… for me. And every one of my needs." She strode slowly to him and stood up close to his abdomen, her height substantially less. She stared up with deep felt wish. Gisborne blinked repeatedly and turned his head down to the left.

"Marian…" he slowly muttered, "Why now?"

"Because I cannot wait." Lady Knighton gave a schoolgirl's grin. The smile parted pouty pink lips that drew attention like a black hole; but Gisborne knew he could never trust anything that came out of it. After all, black holes only absorb and destroy without giving anything back.

"Marian, I cannot give you unlimited chances." He explained. The words held a hardened shell but both of them could hear the weakness that lie beneath. Marian put her hands to his cheeks before he jerked away, but it was only a moment before the muscles brought him back to her.

"I know I have wronged you. I know that I have been distant at times," she swallowed and accepted that she had to tell the whole truth, "I have actually been distant at most times. I have hurt you and I have neglected you when you are so valuable to me."

"As a friend?" Guy questioned, cushioning himself and being certain that she could not possibly insinuate it romantically.

"As so much more." She whispered. Gisborne tugged out of her touch and darted to the other end of the room, a hand running through his shaggy ebony hair. The curls bounced back to attention and form as he wiped his nose and peeked back at Marian of Knighton. He turned away again in an instant and pounded a fist to his forehead a few times. She watched as he became spontaneously on edge and anxious, nearly to the point of shallow breathing. Guy fiddled momentarily with a buckle on his jacket but lost focus just as he had with everything else in the past thirty seconds. There was so very much to think about.

Was this true; was it possible in this universe? He streaked his palms across his face as he raged a ferocious battle within his mind to stick to one idea at a time. The major concern was simple: could she be trusted. He was utterly unsure of whether or not she was telling the truth. On numerous occasions he had taken her word and, whether he knew it or not, had been plainly lied to. There was usually an inkling of deception that he could draw up from the well of his heart and eventually, as well as reluctantly, cast aside. In this moment Guy found himself isolated and disoriented in a floating sea of uncertainty. It appeared as though no layers of anything had been stacked atop her words; Marian was baring her heart and doling out concentrated veracity. And yet how many times could he become so fascinated with a candle that he would burn his fingers? If he turned her advances away he could be shutting the final opportunity to be close to Marian, all chances of intimacy on any level cut away. But what if he took her word and ran with it? What could be the consequence besides another sleepless night and chapter of shame?

April. Oh goodness, little April of Derbyshire. In this episode he had completely and totally been oblivious to her. The past two weeks he had known her had been on noble importance in his life, he couldn't abandon this road before knowing how far it stretched or what lie at the end. Perhaps a rotted log obstructing the path or perhaps a sustaining body of water; could he live without knowing? Her hands and lips intertwined so perfectly with his it was as if they were molded and forged to be accompanying pieces. Was he crazy for being so adamant about her after only such a brief period? Was she a better lover than Marian could be?

Oh Marian was a drink that he wanted to wanted to gulp from the cup for so so long. His thirst for her seemed eternally unquenchable, a sort of damnation by his own mind. A forbidden fruit; and it was well known that Gisborne prefers a challenge. Yet how sweet was the nectar he got from the girl who ran the local orphanage? Much more than he could fit into simple words. What was a man to do when his heart was not damaged but rather split apart and aching for another half which he could not decide on?

Marian was rather surprised that he was delaying any action. In fact, she was wondering why his arms were not wrapped around her waist and holding her steady for another kiss. Why did she want to taste it so badly when she had denied it for so long? What a fool she had been, she thought to herself. Where in the world did she expect to get the same level of affection and concern? Marian's thoughts crashed into Robin of Locksley – oh, she had forgotten him in her animalistic craving. What a good man he was and what a hold he had on her heart. But he left her so often, and Guy was always about. That had to say something. Gisborne had fought for her more than Robin ever would she falsely believed.

Guy raised a hand to her and signaled a halt, psychologically trying to push her away. He didn't know. He wasn't trying to avoid hurting anyone, he just didn't know. He knew nothing about anything at this time which caused a severe panic in his chest. He managed to say her name once more and look up into her hazel eyes; they were clear with innocence. Gisborne could not take this pressure any longer. He took large strides to the door and showed himself out with vigor, leading to rapid steps down the hall. Where he was headed was still a mystery but he knew he could not stay there. It was as if air had turned to wet cement and blocked his lungs as it dried to weigh hundreds of pounds. Hopefully fresh air would do him good as he tried to decipher his next move.


	8. Will Have to Be Burned

April shifted the scarf on her head once more to ensure that it was secured on top of her silky hair. She held in the other hand a large sack of clean, folded laundry for one of the boys' rooms. Inside little shirts and petite trousers rocked back and forth with a cleanliness that only a mother could make; after all, April was the best thing any of them had ever experienced as a maternal figure. The children burst about the orphanage house in this late morning doing crafts, imaginary sword fights, and on occasion even helping tidy up. She had taken this advantage to do the routine laundry washing and hanging. April had just plucked these tiny suits and folded them up to be put into hand carved chests. She was humming a song to herself, one that even she did not recognize, as she tugged open a drawer in the young boys' quarters. Her right hand went for James' trousers and set them inside just before noticing something; what was that? She removed the bottoms and jutted her chin in to peer at what could have been a fanciful young girl's imagination. She nearly leapt back at seeing bits of fabric moving. Upon closer inspection she rolled her eyes – fleas. They catapulted themselves and twitched abruptly into hiding like tiny brown gymnasts, burrowing into the children's clothes and hoping to remain undiscovered until an animal with compatible blood came nearby. This was not the first time she had seen fleas in a clothing drawer, in fact it was quite common, but it did mean she would have to get them clean outfits that were untainted.

April grabbed the clothing by wads and threw them outside of one of the bedroom windows into the side yard. The clothes would have to be burned to get rid of each of the pests, leaving half naked children. She knew that she, and probably a few others, would have to take a trip into town today to get new clothing. Or perhaps just some fabric she could put together; whatever would be cheaper. It was not planned nor was it too big of a hassle for a lazy Saturday. Nettlestone had nothing but cheap clothes that practically melted off after three months, so Nottingham was the best bet for the Kirkslee's Orphanage. April's heart kind of chirped at the idea – Guy worked in Nottingham. Wouldn't it be so wonderful to see him again? Oh, what was she thinking, he is a very preoccupied and important man, she is not a priority. But perhaps with some luck and a few questions their paths could cross. He was so gentle and so understanding and he loved to teach her all sorts of things. The man was blatantly brilliant, this was clear. His gorgeous smile could liquefy her skin and flare up her chest without a straw of effort. April could not hesitate to be in his presence again, so she rounded up a few children and prepared a carriage for them to the capital town.

Things within the castle, though, were drastically less sing-songy. Sherriff Vesey was chewing his knuckles thin as he lollygagged down in the pits of his prison; oh how he loved some good bloodshed in the morning. His night had been void of any sleep, so he could not wait to perk his attitude with some suppression of lesser beings. First he had harassed a man who thought it funny to evade taxes. The poor soul was, of course, tagged with handcuffs and some burn marks from a searing skewer. The next victim had been seen brawling in an alley near a pub before throwing punches at the skulls of officials. His punishment included a ridiculous set of headgear that would create buzzing and jeers at each corner before they noticed the gashes on his body. In the back of the chamber lie the largest cell of all. The iron grate walls stood between the walkway and a double spaced area with chains and locks, their purpose to hold a man hanging up for a scourging. Vesey went to licking his teeth before getting to this point. His mouth fell flat with disappointment when he approached, however. The middle aged man who had accepted money from Hood was suspended and looked rather dehydrated, but that was the majority of it.

"Open it," he screamed, "I said open it!" A silver plated guard obliged and dragged over the jailer, who was fiddling with the ring of keys before swinging open the cubicle. Vesey shoved his way through the mass of the two men and stormed inside to see the delirious captive in his element. The man craved food and drink but did not dare speak of these desires, for he was fully aware that he had gotten off the hook quite simply. The Sherriff grabbed his face with a claw and hurriedly scanned over the visage; nothing. He thrust away the skull in his grasp and patted down his chest; nothing. His arms, too, were bare of any sores, mars, burns, or any strips of red from a whipping. Vesey could only find threads of tender pink flesh on his back that resembled a weak attempt at scourging. There were toddlers that could lash better, he spat inside his mind. "What the hell is this? What happened here?" Vesey pounded into the guest with an open palm and shrieked at the jailer, who merely shook his head.

"Gisborne was here last night," the jailer replied with swiftness, "that's all I know, sire."

"Gisborne." The Sherriff growled with boiling disdain. He would make his insubordinate pay for this mistake. He was aware that Guy had been distracted in the past 48 hours, much more so than usual. It was as if the man couldn't bark, eat, or sleep anymore. Vesey was convinced that it had to pertain to that little tart from before. That dumb little girl he found so pretty in the orphanage. A leper. All women were stupid lepers, couldn't he see that? This weakness would prove to be his downfall, and Vesey was not afraid to encourage it.

"Mmm, no, I really don't think so," April told one of the little girls, Annie, "I much prefer this other dress for you." She held up a small gown of lilac that the seven year old rolled her eyes at. Reluctantly she replaced the olive dress and examined this other suggestion.

"Miss April, could I get this red one?" James begged as he shoved a short sleeved shirt into her view, nearly hitting her in the chest with his fist.

"Of course, of course." She giggled at his enthusiasm. The shopkeeper was avoiding all the energy and ruckus with some eye rolls and a wooden stool that rested in the corner, perching her above the shortest of the children. The youthful leader took another clothing item from a stand before the front door was violently forced open with a vindictive kick. Reflexes drew every eye to the are as five armor clad castle workers barged into the shop, pushing little Annie into the wall to get her out of the way. James and his friend Alan circumvented the authority figures and picked up the child as April rushed over.

"You, you're coming with us." The captain of the group told her as he placed a gloved hand on her forearm. The brunette took another step towards her youngsters and furrowed her brows.

"What are you doing, she's a child!"

"You're coming to the castle." He demanded, patience clearly evaporating from his voice. One of his colleagues clamped onto her upper arm and tugged with violence to escort her out, popping the shoulder joint a little.

"For what, I have done nothing." she pleaded.

"Shuddup!" one of them commanded with a shove to her spine as April was dragged out the door. The three youth watched horrified and frozen in fear of Vesey's men, their hearts pounding, and the blood to their muscles gone.

"Don't worry," she called back to them, doing her best to traverse and look into the shop, "Guy will fix this. Stay there. It will all be okay!"

"Yeah, good luck with that." The chief of the guard sneered.


	9. Playing for the Same Team

The bruises on her arms were already becoming apparent; she had the skin of a summer peach and it damaged just as easily. The guards were anything but hospitable as she came into the office of Vesey against her will. The short man sat behind a dark stained desk enveloped by cold stone walls and the clutter of tools, paperwork, and half eaten food. He was picking rubbish from his growing fingernails in silence even as the guests arrived and shut the heavy doors. A sense of foreboding was purposefully created in the quiet.

"You," he said as he pointed a stubby finger at her without looking up, "run Kirkslee's Orphanage."

"Yes." April shortly answered with a tone of respect and weariness.

"Well, Abby, we are in quite a pickle here." Vesey stood and meandered to a window where he peeked out to an occupied street below.

"My name is April, sire."

"Hmm?"

"April," she nervously glanced to the bouncers who still held her in place, "my name. It's April." The Sherriff stared blankly with zero thought process as she spoke. Another barrier was soon put up, this one also constructed from silence, as he kissed out his lips.

"Well, I'm sure Gisborne knows that," Was his eventual connection to her introduction. She had confusion crystallized in her emerald eyes while Vesey shrugged his shoulders, "Yes, no, maybe so?"

"I know Sir Guy." April cautiously gave him.

"Yes, well, he knows you for sure." The Sherriff chuckled as he progressed back to the corner of the desk and lifted a munched on apple. He contemplated it, took a large bite, and set the fruit back aside. He squirreled it away into the pocket of his cheek before asking if she agreed.

"My Lord…"

"He has told you things, I am sure. About the castle."

"Not particularly. Oh, Sherriff, if you are worried I know where you have money or something, I don't. I have no clue –" April was stopped by a raise of the hand.

"That is not my concern, my dear," he pasted on a tight smile, "I am worried about what Gisborne thinks of his job. Of dear old me. You see… he has been slacking. A lot. And I don't like it, no not at all. You see, I have to punish Gisborne. Do you know how I will do it?" April gave a miniscule shake of her head and wished she could look away; he pointed at her and mouthed the word 'you.'

"My Lord –"

"Blah. Blah blah. Blah blah di blah di blah! I do not care what you have to say," Vesey went to the window and drew a dagger, tapping the shimmering blade to the window sill, "But I do want you to know I am offering you a way out. Oh yes, I can give you safety."

"What do you want from me?" April practically whispered, her head beginning to ache and become confused.

"I am concerned about Gisborne's performance. How can I trust a man if he will not do as he is told? Structure, my dear, is the base of all good, don't you agree? You see, I want to be sure he is doing a proper job, and for the right people. If I had someone sweet to ensure that…"

"Sire…"

"If you were to tell me everything he says about business, I think that thin little throat will be just fine for a while."

"You want me to spy on Guy?" April's neck felt crushed as she choked on each syllable. Vesey looked to the side then immediately back at her.

"Yes. Well, it's not spying if we are all playing for the same team, eh?" The jeweled toothed grin was enough to make flesh uncomfortable and hearts repent out of fear of being so vile as him. How could Gisborne be affiliated with him? She squeezed her eyes shut and glanced up knowingly at the mirrored dagger, seeing in the reflection quite clearly what she had to do.

Guy was obsessed with pressing the valueless piece of cloth on the hilt of his sword, scrubbing a spit shine in to the metal itself. He was making no effort to keep himself from eavesdropping nor did he actively listen, but several guards cut through the lounge area with random and sometimes personal tidbits that were shared between colleagues. Gisborne found one henchman's swelling infection of the toe much more interesting than most of the babble that came across.

"Nasty thing, this," he explained with a minute gesture, "it's just as purple as me wife's gown."

"Just don't know why I have to be the one to watch the stables all night!" whined another worker.

"Might have to get that thing chopped off, " a suit of armor said to the ill companion of his, "I can do it for cheap!"

"Can you believe that pretty little thing down in the cells?" was a buzz by a short employee.

"Oh yeah, wouldn't mind helping myself to some of that." Came the answer.

"Eh, she does some orphanage or something. Too goody for my taste; where's a girl who loves a drink as much as me?" the petite man snapped back. Gisborne had his attention piqued by this last conversation and stretched an arm into the chest of his subordinate. The men halted immediately as their boss stonily glanced into their eyes; his expression was conquered by persistence and authority.

"What girl?" his baritone voice demanded.

"Sir Guy, I really don't think she's your type-"

"What girl with an orphanage?" Gisborne sensed his trachea inflating with a petrified fear that little April had been somehow wronged or harmed by the castle that he, in fact, was meshed into. He was fully aware of what any of these men were capable of.

"Tall brunette; very humble, very sad."

"Very pretty." His partner suggestively interjected. Guy squinted with menace and sniffed, stabbing him with unspoken threats. It was effective. Gisborne slammed his battle equipment back into its scabbard with a burst of unease and charged to the prison with a mild jog.

What had April gotten herself into; was she alright? How could he live having to see scars mar her gentle flesh if she had already been punished for a crime she was realistically unlikely to commit? He had to rescue her. Guy rounded the corner of the hall to approach the arched doorway to the descending rock stairs of the dungeon when suddenly he hit a wall. The man of leather found himself with an irrational fear of seeing her, hearing her, and now even thinking of her. A wet towel of heat clamped to him and weighed his stomach into the floor, bringing Gisborne into a state of thin breathing. Everything that Marian had confessed to him streaked the walls and invaded his mind. He tightly gripped bare fingers in his growing hair and momentarily tugged to relieve stress; a futile effort. Finding a new idol of affection was supposed to be easier than this. But what if… no. He could not become paranoid about Marian and the outstanding question of who he shall bestow attention upon. At this moment, one of the women he loved was in clear danger of losing her life. Sir Guy of Gisborne refused to give this day any blood from the one he adored.


	10. Whirlwind of Emotions

Sincere apologies for the wait. My father has been in the hospital recently (yet again, it is a sport for him) so I have not had the time to continue. Believe me – there is plenty of story left to go.

The dripping. It had to stop. The drip, drip, dripping that pounded from the corner, it shattered eardrums and thieved sanity. That drip left the air feeling cold at the reminder of wetness and rain. The dripping drove April mad.

She tore the green head wrap off of her hair and crawled to the other side of her cell; it took great muscle extension to reach into the eclipsed corner and pad the earth with the cloth. It began to absorb the liquid and finally granted silence. She could sense that she was not alone in the sigh of relief at the stillness, and yet she recognized no reward from her companions. April was aware that humility was key and that she should not expect anything, but it was hard. She was tired; so, so tired in every way. Physically she needed sleep from the emotional trauma of today and mentally she was beyond done with this grimy confinement. April inched her way back into flickering light at the front of the prison chamber and wiped a hand down the iron cage wall. It was real. She truly was imprisoned. Guy, it seemed, clearly was not kidding when he advised her to avoid Vesey at all costs. She allowed her mind to branch off into a wistful dream of Gisborne; after all, what else was there to do but wait? She noticed her fantasies materialize in only minutes.

Scuffs rang from flagstone steps as black boots thundered down into the depths, the slight jangle of metal buckles from clothing present. Guy appeared as tall and regal as ever but with a clear cut determination in his crystal eyes. He performed a sweep across cells until he found the youthful and, in his opinion, innocent girl looking quite abstract among a party of murderers and thieves. He rushed to the grate and fell to his knees. They met at eye level as she was already sitting on the filthy ground, one hand holding the welded bars with sadness. Guy put a bare skinned hand up to hers and stopped only centimeters from her flesh. Could he really touch her? He found himself a victim of sudden onset anxiety by the concept of even hearing her breathe, much less noting the sensation of making contact with her body. He had a hard and thick swallow before gathering the gall to find her sorrow filled eyes. Gisborne felt he was afraid of her and what she would think about Marian. In the flash of an instant he was concerned with losing the tenderness and generosity that is April, tossing away a new toy for the comfort of the old. Oh, what was he saying. Guy was afraid of letting himself feel for the first time since he grew up. His brain became terrified that his heart was now wide awake and no longer interested in sleeping ever again. Or could it be both? He was certain, though, that he was alarmed of the uncertainty.

"Guy, I'm scared." April whispered to her lover across the threshold.

"I know," he replied, stroking the cell with a note of haste, "I know you are. And I am going to get you out now, my dear, I promise." He stood and dashed around the corner, taking what seemed to be an eternity just to retrace his steps; it was as if he had gotten lost in his own dungeon. The orphanage manager glanced back to her scarf and let out a huff. There was no way she would put that back on her head, much less let it touch any other piece of skin. April looked back to see Guy fumbling through a large iron ring that boasted several grand keys, each of them holding a promise to a criminal's freedom, none of them seeming to release her. Finally towards the end of the stack Gisborne latched on to a thick and worn key that inserted perfectly in the lock of her chamber. As he pulled open the gate, he was surprised by the jump April made towards him. She wrapped her arms to encompass his shoulders as she burrowed deeply into the crevice at the base of his neck. Her warm breath and mild shiver kept Guy company as he slowly held her in return; the Sherriff's right hand man closed his eyes and drifted off on a float made from serenity. April pressed her lips to his skin and held them there for a long kiss that teased his heart. Gisborne had open palms rested on her arched lower back as he twitched to release her head and open her up for a kiss that, thankfully for him, she more than gladly reciprocated. Their show of affection was not rushed as they were about a corner that no one else could peek behind. It was a bursting garden of passion and affection that the pair had harvested alone in the bleak and treacherous surroundings of wet and bloody stone.

"Sir Guy, you have truly rescued me." April softly spoke. He set his forehead to hers and grinned with a genuine happiness that would have terrified anyone who recognized him.

"It is you who rescue me." He reassured. A fellow prisoner let loose a string of noxious and crackled coughs that shattered the privacy, giving Gisborne a moment of panic. No, he remembered, no one could have seen him break character. His hide of metal and leather remained intact to everyone except his flower, who he hoped never had to be exposed to his naked brutality and inner torment. This thought was paralyzingly horrific so he decided to evict it. Gisborne took her gentle hand and led her up the steps to a setting sun that sank to a red globe just over one the watchtowers of Nottingham castle. The balmy breeze and smell of oncoming rain excited April, who felt that her past six hours had rather been six sleepless days.

"Will you get in trouble," she realized just before halting in place, "for freeing me?"

"No," Gisborne lied through smiling teeth, "It will all be well." He put a hand to her cheek as he scanned over all the possible repercussions he was going to challenge later in the evening; whatever cause Vesey had for charging April would clearly be debited to Guy, but so would any punishment without bar. His regrets were still blank. He noticed a chirping paranoia burping up inside of his intestines about what this could mean for his career and, frighteningly enough, that it didn't seem to matter. He had in fact done the right thing. And that was what was important to him at this time.

"Forgive me if I seem ungrateful, but I really must return to see what has happened with the children…"

"Of course." He blinked repeatedly as she kissed his cheek goodbye in a parting of the ways. After a flirty wave his obsession had flown off back into town to find her crew that had been left at the shops. Guy released a breath and tried to recreate the taste of her lips in his mind, giving the distraction Marian needed to slip up behind the tall man of black.

"Guy?" Lady Knighton prodded to his shock, turning the man on his heel to face the short brunette.

"Marian…" he eventually got out of his chest.

"I am hoping this evening finds you well."

"Um," he stuttered and averted his eyes from her own, "it is, yes. I don't really have time –"

"Have you thought about what I said?" she interrogated with a honey voice. Gisborne's mouth fell slightly apart as she whisked away a lock of hair and chuckled. Marian's eyelashes fluttered with further detail, "Last night? Have you thought about it?"

Thought about it? He sacrificed sleep with a dull and bloody knife over it; if only she knew the ruckus it was causing in his brain. Gisborne cleared his throat and let oxygen relax his muscles as he regained a stance.

"I do not have time for games."

"I don't want to play games –"

"Marian…"

" - I want to tell you that I love you." She blurted out. The woman stroked the back of his naked hand to hold it but he pulled away, squeezing the bridge of his nose and heavily shaking no.

"Do not do this to me. Please do not, I am begging you." He stared up into her gaze with a raw plead that she had never seen before; this gave her satisfaction. No man would be this effectible if he did not contain feelings for her, just as she had known all along. Guy was full of it when he told her scorchingly that he no longer cared for her.

"Guy…" Marian caressed his jawline and smirked at the feel of his stubble on her fingertips. An infant sized shiver chimed down his spine; this was a part of so many of his dreams in the past. Gisborne found himself high on the tingling throughout his body.

"Marian…"

"You were right; perhaps… perhaps I do need to learn to hold my tongue. And I should think things through before I make the hasty choice to deny you." She inched closer and brushed her nose to his lips, which evacuated all blood from his legs and left the iron man weak at the knees, sensing he was momentarily on the verge of toppling over. She smelled of lilacs. Gisborne could not believe the extent to which that floral scent turned him on.

"Why now, sweetheart?" his mouth let out before his brain caught on to the pet name; there were so many times he had wanted to give this little dove a sugary title. He felt her slender fingers run like silk through his wavy hair, tugging at his ability to contain himself.

"I cannot torment myself anymore by staying away, Guy. I need you." She pressed as he closed his eyes for a moment. As his blue gaze opened back up he felt so good it was borderline nauseating. A washing rain poured over him at her touch; it was as titillating as he had always pictured. Marian, too, experienced an electricity inside of herself. She hardly played with boundaries out of her Night Watchman disguise, which had always saddened her a bit. But now she was truly breaking rules and for no one but herself. Yes, she had Robin of Locksley who loved her, but he wasn't passionate. He didn't fight for her and tear himself to shreds over her like Gisborne did. She wondered who would be a better kisser…

Motion behind Guy's left shoulder caught her and she saw something that stopped her heart – April. The younger and slimmer girl was retracing back to Guy to say or do whatever she did and Marian did not like it one bit. She found herself incredibly territorial and maddened by the fact that she had seen April and her new beau locking lips at Kirkslee's Abbey, so she responded in the fashion of nature. Lady Knighton made sure to lock eyes with April one second before she cupped her hands over Gisborne's beard and locked her lips to his. He shrunk back for a moment in surprise but quickly parted his mouth to let her in, pushing back into her and giving back force. Unlike any smooch with April, this one was animalistic and hungry. It was resolving a starvation and thirst that had abandoned Guy in a desert of hopelessness and craving. It tasted so wonderful. His hands found her back and held her in close to his own body with no desire to ever release her. A carnal passion overwhelmed the pair but Gisborne was easily snapped out of it when he opened his eyes to see Marian watching behind him. His romantic smile to her became deceased as soon as he glanced back to find his other girl.

"April…" he shouted with a whirlwind of emotions. He was angry at what she had witnessed, upset that he had created that infidel situation, and scared that he would be abandoned for another time in his life.

The orphanage worker had not flinched but eventually blinked, not noticing the smugness splattered across Marian's face. She puckered her lips a bit and stared down at the dirty breezeway floor just shy of Gisborne's toes.

"I don't know what to say." Guy told her with a hushed lump obstructing his adam's apple.

"I know what I was going to say," she looked up and met his eyes with remorse but no fury, "I was going to say that I….. now I just want to say that I am disappointed."

"I didn't mean for this to –"

"And I didn't mean to trust you as much as I did. I'm not angry, Guy, I'm just… let down. Saddened. But I wish you luck with her." She nodded briefly to Marian before abruptly leaving with a low hung head. As she maneuvered through a mass of guards marching in formation Gisborne glanced back to Marian, who shrugged and put on a sultry smile. He sneered with disgust and pushed past her to go wallow in his chambers.


	11. Damaged

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James' arms held to her tight, terrified of forgetting what her hugs felt like. April grinned and patted his shoulder blades yet again to passively let him know the embrace was over. He pulled back and rejoined the cluster of orphans who had encircled their caretaker with thorough joy that she had left Nottingham castle unscathed. Under Vesey's rule this was miraculous.

"How on earth did you convince him to let you go?" one of the juvenile girls, Lucy, asked.

"I bet that Gisborne guy helped her out," Brandon pitched in, "it's good to have friends in high places."

"Oh, I will have to draw him a picture!" Annie burst as she popped across the dining room to get some paints.

"I don't think Sir Guy will be coming round anymore, darling." April informed her; the older kids recognized the gravity of this sentence but the younger children let it glide past their ears. The teenage males stood a bit straighter and folded their arms in defense of April.

"Why is that?" James bit at the air with a hefty attitude, letting his short temper crumble away.

"Yeah, Miss April," Annie trudged back with a canister of red finger paint, "why is that?" her deer brown eyes were scrunched with confusion; they had all started to feel comfortable in the presence of the man in black. The shields were dissolving and trust was in the fetal stages, but none of them were close to Gisborne. None of them, that is, except April.

"Well, sweetheart, he is a busy man. I don't know that he has the time to see us anymore." She let it slide casually. Again the youngsters accepted this and continued on their way. Several of the teenagers were uncomfortable with her cloaked emotions as she pressed through to her private chambers.

For the first time in this day April was free to be concerned with herself and her own needs, and it hit her hard. A battering ram shattered her door after she closed it and broke her heart like a fragile eggshell. She reached up with her right hand and yanked silver drop earrings from the lobe and catapulted them across the room to a skitter on the floor; Gisborne had given them to her last week when she thought he loved her. The jewelry skipped on stone and wound up edging behind a wooden dresser, but April could think of no better place to put them. Out of sight was perfect. She took in a heavy breath and expanded her lungs in the hopes of inhaling serenity, but unfortunately it made no change, she was losing her head. April was sensing a wrath well up inside of her abdomen that threatened to overtake her mind and bring about a string of disgust for Guy and his trespasses against her. Glancing out the window, she noticed the looming shadow in the figure of Kirkslee's Abbey; at the top of the church's silhouette stood a cross. She released a sigh that weighed much more than the intake.

"Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice," she squeezed shut her youthful eyes and escaped to the scriptures she had been raised with, "Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you." Damn and blast it was so uncomfortable to sit still! April wandered to the glass panes to observe the cross but shied away, ashamed of the emotions that were overtaking her. She sat down with her back to the wall and the church. Twenty years of lessons in forgiveness and they had led to nothing; she hated him. She despised what Gisborne did to her. But two minutes after kissing her his lips were on another woman, and zealously. How many others were there? The possible number of mistresses was endless. It was almost some sort of divine punishment or karma, but for what? She had refused Vesey's demands that she spy on him and divulge private information. Wasn't that the moral thing to do? Perhaps it was not the right choice… April smothered herself in silky palms and allowed a few tears to escape before the oldest of the boys made his way softly into her chambers, knocking absent. Hearing James' footsteps she erased all evidence of crying and looked up with a clearly silicone grin. The mask was cheap.

"What really happened?" he posed his question while sliding to repose next to his caregiver, not knowing whether their bond fit closer to a mother and son or sister and brother format. Either way, he would go to the end of the world for her. They rested back against the wall with silence as she shook her head, trying to play off the entire situation as nothing more than a mutual abandonment of the relationship. He wouldn't buy it for a second. James said her name and put an arm around her shoulders, prompting a dam to burst and dragging out all the tears of her soul. April bawled into him with soggy words.

"He loves someone else. He has another woman, or maybe I'm the other woman. I don't know, I just don't know. But he kissed her James, he kissed and loved her and I look a fool!" she continued crying and gasping feverishly for air as the teenager rubbed her spine soothingly.

"He's going to be a sorry man for missing you." James kindly added; he could think of no one with more grace or capacity for devotion.

"He's a miserable and awful man. An awful, awful man and he deserves to be hateful and sad all of the time."

"Hey now, hey," he stopped her dark rant, "Remember Galatians: Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted."

"James, it doesn't matter." April cut off his biblical reference, stunning him. She was the most religious person in all of Nottingham and in her time of need she was refusing the Holy book? It was clear she had been deeply disturbed by this event. Someone else in the county, however, had it far worse.

The cracking of the whip rang throughout the jail hall as the weapon broke into the sound barrier. The Sherriff raised it up and slammed it back through his victim's flesh for the final blow before throwing it aside, the body of the tool crimson with blood. Vesey stormed over to Gisborne and grabbed his black hair to force his chin up to look at the man who had punished him. The Sherriff saw Guy's body shiver weakly and bead sweat in reaction to the raw gauges in his back from the scourging; the eyes, however, were unchanging. Only vacancy and sadness resided, no pain.

"You do not have a pass to do as you please with my prisoners," he spat to his colleague, "do you understand that, Gisborne?" After the barking he manhandled his skull to nod yes before tossing him aside, as well. Guy was left alone to bleed in solitude but he didn't particularly care. Scourging took every drop of hope and comfort from a man, but what can you take from someone who has nothing? He collected his shirt and solemnly left to return to his chambers. The fiery stings in his flesh were notably distracting, especially while escalating on stairs, but they did not take his mind away for very long. It was numb. He had experienced instances before of severe heartache from his parents, Vesey, and Marian, but time could scab over anything. One sleepless night and torture filled day later, progress was absent. Gisborne was concerned that maybe he had finally become broken. Perhaps he had suffered one to many blows and now his heart was defective; this void could be the shelter he resided in for the rest of his days. Nottingham castle bustled with security detail and cleaning staff but he hardly even saw them. It seemed as though Guy was in a personal sized bubble and beyond its realm all things became fuzzy and dull. Edges were blended and conversations listed on as sounds rather than words, keeping him exiled to a secluded island of pain and confusion. This could be the life he must adjust to forever if he was truly damaged; Gisborne hoped, though, that his life would not last much longer at all. He was far too weary to continue, yet far too coward to end it himself.

Outside of his door waited Marian, wet cloth in hand, worry covering her face as she bit her lip in anxiety. Word had gone viral about Guy's scheduled scourging for his disobedience and she knew there was nowhere else to be but at his aid. After all, she was under his spell. This could be the last measure to draw him to her; had he not just been harmed for loving that other girl? Gisborne approached and gave a mild roll of the eyes at seeing her.

"Leave me be." He requested with clear fatigue.

"I know the Sherriff did not clean your wounds," Marian defended while he opened the wooden door, "and I do not expect you will. They will become infected." She gestured the cloths to him and after a moment received a nod that welcomed her inside. She wasted no time as he sat on the bed to assist the skin that she had just recently become infatuated with. Marian held a tender hand on his shoulder as she swept away drying blood from the borders of the injuries, careful not to press into the crevices of tissue. He wouldn't have cared, or probably even felt it, anyways.

"I am so tired of hurting." He admitted into the quiet environment. A few seconds later, she set down the pink stained fabric and came around the bed to crouch in front of the exhausted warrior.

"I promise I shall not hurt you any more, my dear."

"Marian… I don't know what I want." Guy's deep voice trailed off as he began to look away. She touched his chin.

"You want to be happy, and I want to help." Marian grinned before meeting his lips for a kiss. Company, he thought, was better than nothing.


	12. It Doesn't Affect You

I hope nobody has forgotten our little story! I'm sorry I made all of you wait; my father just passed away and I had not been in the mood to write a happy tale. Now that things have settled, let's strap ourselves in and go!

A mild fog crawled over the dirt paths of Northern England, noting the humidity that had found the county overnight. Darkness hung dull like a flat curtain. It was rather late, but time has no meaning to a man that never sleeps. Sir Guy of Gisborne was on the threshold of his breaking point in regards to pain. Crevices lined the flesh of his back from Vesey's punishment and, though hours passed, the wounds were resistant to sealing up with a blanket of scar tissue and scabs. Pounding through Nettlestone was of no aid to the effort, either.

He had departed his property in Locksley in the dead of night to slam his stallion awake and go to the one place his soul would not release from its grasp: Kirkslee's Orphanage. The limbo that hung around him had to fall victim to gravity and settle again; he needed to make amends with April. Marian, it seemed, was not filling the void of love in his life. Lately she was only highlighting the hollow pit in his ribs where a heart of passion should lie. This night's insomnia sprung the birth of realization that Marian of Knighton was no more than a trophy at this point in their mangled and deformed relationship. Guy found no well of trust to draw from when it came to his longtime crush; he was in fact utterly apathetic to her. Gisborne liked to think that this unconscious numbing only proved that he was smarter than previously assumed. His body knew how to handle the situation, so he abided by its urges. On this particular evening it was magnetized to the orphanage and away from any thought of Marian, whose lips, regretfully, had awoken him this past morning. He no longer struggled to move on. Rather, he wrestled to accept that he had left her and found better opportunity.

The faithful horse replied to his master's command and pulled to a halt before the wooden fence of Kirkslee's Abbey. After a decade of their unspoken bond that Gisborne would never admit to, the animal could tell he was in pain, and a hell of a lot of it. Guy demounted with the dexterity of a crippled old dog that had only a few days remaining on this plane of existence. The steed whinnied and shook its head as Guy glanced over the beast's reflective and knowing eyes. It took only a second for him to shut off the period of tenderness and get back to the objective; April. He proceeded along the winding gravel path to the rear corner where the children were housed. His feet ignored the curves and took the most direct route across pockets of grass then back to the stone; Gisborne was not a man who wasted pieces of his life for social courtesy. Once the orphanage cottage was in view he could tell there was a glowing light in the front hall. She must still be awake. His mind gave approval to wave over the hope that she had remained out of bed grieving the loss of their love, clenching her breast in agony, and craving nothing more than him. Gisborne's jaw stiffened as he recognized the improbability of this selfish dream. A wooden porch slipped beneath him as he rapped the door, oblivious until it was too late that a quiet approach would keep the unwanted kids asleep. Guy heard the leather of his glove creak as he clenched a fist to knock more appropriately a second time but he lost his chance. The entryway spread open just enough for the slim brunette of his desires to creep a head through and give a blank stare.

"Can I help you?" April calmly asked, little interest present. What was there was most likely a feigned act.

"You're up late, I hope this evening finds you well," he started politely but was pushed to continue after silence solidified between the pair, "What keeps you awake?"

"It isn't any business of yours." She gave back quietly as the door began to squeal closed.

"I would like it to be," Guy hurriedly slapped his palm to the wood to hold the door open with raw desperation, no anger shown, "I would like for a lot of things to be my business and, in turn, have a lot of my things become your business." April mulled over his verbal nudge and chewed the inside of her cheek before taking her slender hands off the door. The man in black pressed it open a few more inches but didn't force his way inside.

"One of the children became sick in the night." She admitted to his masked glee. Gisborne could sense the ice over her jaded heart begin to crackle.

"Is it bad?"

"It doesn't affect you, I can't imagine you are interested." April jabbed into his ribs with force, momentarily stealing his breath as he cocked his head to the side and blinked repeatedly; they both acknowledged that he deserved it. The burst of aggression receded and dissolved into stillness.

"I am interested in everything there is to do with you." Guy nakedly tossed out. His sentence covered a mental and physical meaning that April received, but he did not feel he crossed the line. Now was a time for honesty. She used her toes to open the door all the way and invite the man inside. No answer came to his words. Gisborne eyed at a half empty and rickety bucket that held filthy water and a block of lard soap next to a damp wall but said nothing. He put together that April was up in the early morning cleaning the house for the youth as opposed to taking her own rest, but in this fragile time he refused to point out her lie. April had led them to a cozy room in the corner with more mature literature and legible notes; it was clearly the territory of older tenants. Guy removed the shell of his jacket as they sat catty corner to each other and both watched her hands as she went to folding laundry that lie as a wad in a chair.

"April, I came to ask… I came to beg your forgiveness for what I have done," the baritone ring helped to hide some of the weakness, "I have made a huge mistake. You have taught me so much you make me want to chang-"

"Do you love her?"

"Beg pardon?"

"That woman… Do you love her?" She froze and stared into his ice colored gaze, not wavering. Guy licked his lips and watched the floor; he did not offer an answer from his sleeve, but rather waited for his gut to kick up the honest reply that shocked him.

"No, April. No I do not." Gisborne was proud of himself but crumbled at her smirk of disbelief.

"You didn't even look at me, Sir Guy. I don't think you are telling me the truth." She hardly stated, being sure to insert his formal title so he would not think they were comfortable as before.

"I want to be sure before I say anything. I cannot afford to hurt you again." He murmured with mild regret at all he was exposing. He may as well have shown up with no clothes at this rate. Guy saw her chew this idea while going back to the tiny dresses. Gisborne stretched across her lap and brought back a cluster of trousers to fold, hoping to show her that he was trying his very hardest to come back. He did not, however, consider the work that the muscles in his back were being instructed to do. The wincing was packaged and kept as an interior decoration of anguish. April glanced up to tuck away the completed foldings and only then noticed the moisture on her former beaus shoulder. A few beats hit before she could make out that it was, in fact, blood growing on the fabric.

"Guy!" she whelped, rushing to get behind him and assess the damage; it was horrific. The tracks of the scourging were making themselves known with a whiny bleed that nearly traumatized the orphanage manager. April tore the shirt up and hoisted it to rest atop his shoulders as she charged for a wet cloth. Coming back, she pressed firmly into the center of the wounds and triggered a howl from the invincible Gisborne. She apologized profusely whilst wiping dried plasma from the rims of the injuries and after a minute relieved the seeping. April discarded the towel and stayed behind him, hands rested on his biceps, awing at the marks. Guy said nothing besides a heavy sigh to suppress the pain. "What on earth…"

"It's nothing." He assured her.

"What happened? It looks like… Oh Lord in heaven," she gasped, "Is this what happened to you for letting me go? Is this what they did for freeing me?"

"There is no need to worry, April."

"Guy… you took this for me?" She peered around to see his face, but he glanced away. Pride stood tall in this heavy realization. She now had tangible evidence for his emotion; who else in her life would have accepted a lashing in her name? And now he expected nothing from it. Gisborne did not even mention it. April laid her cheek on his shoulder and set her nose to his warm neck, taking in the smell and feel of the man she cared so much for. He put his right hand back and rested it on the back of her head, absorbing the sleekness of her soft hair through his fingerprints, soaking into a peaceful calm. All of the tension and taught air settled as the couple closed their eyes and relaxed in each other's presence.

April felt herself twitching in and out of consciousness, regularly slipping off of her perch and about to fall to the floor in sleep. Guy had a soft chuckle and patted her head before reaching down for her hand. He brought his crush around and sat her on his lap, holding her waist while easing her upper body to lie on his chest. Gisborne kissed her forehead and held her close as they both slipped into a world of dreams for the night.


	13. Do Me a Favor

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Guy found himself reclined in the same wooden chair from last night, mind groggy, neck broken from his positioning. His head rolled over to glance out the window. The panes were streaked from being washed with dirty water so the sunlight filtered in with a soft glow that didn't irritate his freshly awoken eyes. His brain cleared up images and he realized that a small face was watching him from outside. Gisborne hardened his expression and saw the little girl slink away from the glass back to the yard; he must have slept in if everyone was already running around. His muscles were concrete and his bones shattered as Guy maneuvered himself from the seat and to an upright stance. He replaced his shirt and jacket tenderly, letting out a sigh as his spine reminded him of the wounds, and patted himself to be sure he was presentable and prepared to leave. As he took a step towards the door, April made her way in with a home-made broom and two boxes. Her thin stature looked inadequate for even that small number of things. Gisborne took the crates from her and set them on a side table, moving them from her face so her grin was visible.

"Hi." She giggled to him.

"Good morrow," he smiled back, "I see you're up early."

"You're up late."

"You didn't throw me out." Guy gladly noted, but she just waved her hand.

"Sleep is good for you, trust me. There is bread left over in the kitchen if you-"

"No, no, really I should go."

"Oh…" April seemed surprised; she also stunned herself at the assumption he would stay. She recognized it was silly to think he would be around. He could see the touch of disappointment crawl onto her and decided that, for his own sake, a different subject would be best.

"What's all this, then?" Gisborne prodded at the chests and accidentally slipped a poorly shaped lid off; inside the gleam of crowns absorbed his attention. There was nothing on this planet that could keep him from the hypnotic draw of cash. Guy felt his jaw slack and slid on the mask of official business, the glare in his eyes the same one he generously hands out to farmers, the adam's apple in his throat sliding with a swallow.

"Donations from the church; every service has a charity box for the orphanage, why?"

"Are these taxed?" he winced at the automatic override of his behavior. After the question poured out he pinched the bridge of his nose and apologized.

"It's just local contribution, relax," she brushed some hair from his face and held his cheek, "everybody needs charity."

"I do not require handouts from anybody," he vainly threw out with a smirk, "I am one of the wealthiest men in England." Guy edged forward and leaned on the table, able body poised to impress her. April simply raised a brow and snapped the lid back in place.

"You may not need money, but everybody needs charity of some sort."

"Oh, really? And what could I possibly need from the peasants?"

"In my opinion, Guy," she matched his stance and pride, "you require someone to donate time. You need someone to give compassion, you need someone to listen. You need somebody to understand you. Am I close?" Her smile was not smug so much as softening; Gisborne turned away and felt struck by her clear reading of his necessities. He sniffed and started to leave before April took his hand, gentle fingers taking his. He looked at her and meekly reflected a grin before, to his surprise, she kissed his lips with hers. "Lucky you I am a generous soul."

"I ought to take donations more often, then." Guy said with a sultry layer before bringing her body into his. The fabric of their clothes felt negligible as they were pressed into each other for several deep kisses that little eyes peeked in on, each kid disgusted for a different reason. Most of them felt an aversion to romance since puberty was an upcoming event. The others, however, were still not completely sold on Guy after what James had told them. They wanted nothing more than to return the motherly instinct that April had wrapped them in during their stay; keeping away the Sherriff's henchman came with the territory.

"April, I'm hungry!" Melissa screamed at the top of her lungs. Gisborne and his love broke the moment and looked at the seven year old standing in the center of the doorway as the feet of others scampered away. She laughed and went to the child, stroking once through her fiery red hair, and kissed the crown of her head. Guy scoffed and rolled his eyes with arms tucked up across his chest. No matter how much he loved April he hated kids. She held Melissa's hand and brought Gisborne to the door along with his newly soured attitude. He nodded goodbye without regarding the adoption candidate, growling a bit once he was free of earshot.

"Say, Guy," April called from the cottage, turning him one last time, "That money is going to put up a second house for the older kids, give everyone a bit more room." The man in black softened a bit at her voluntary gift of truth about the crowns he so foolishly cared for earlier; his hopes to reconcile their issues had not gone to plan per say, he didn't particularly have one in fact, but the outcome was grander than he could have realistically foreseen.

Gisborne allowed his mind to wade around in fanciful waters on the horse ride back to Nottingham. Although he had to return to do business, he did not let any serious clouds cover the ocean of his imagination. Each sector of the castle boasted a ghost from the future; when she was his wife, what memories would they make on these front steps? And how many times would he hold this door open for her? As silver skinned guards clanked past he was shaken from wistful distractions. Guy touched the elbow of one of his commanders and matched his pace, heading into the castle and, unknowingly, past Marian of Knighton.

"I need you and your men to do me a favor… this is a direct order."

"Yes, Sir. What can we do for you?" the yellow sleeved military man halted to face his superior, absorbing the directives and formulating Gisborne's plan as he spoke.

"Gather your men, you will be busy all week."


	14. Delusions

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"And I mean now," Guy instructed to his worker with no room for lenience, "It must be started before the next sunrise."

"Yes, Sir." The captain gave a curt nod and roughly scurried to carry out the orders, metallic clanking chiming through the corridor as he sped off in armor. Gisborne could not help but grin at what he had done. He made a morally good and selfless choice; just wait until April heard. Then he would be golden.

"Ah, Guy, lovely to see you. I hope everything is well…" Marian hinted at the exiting guard with her eyes before returning them to a lock on Gisborne's. She had appeared from seemingly nowhere; she could materialize as vapor in the air if she had the desire, he was sure of it.

"It's fine," Gisborne answered while lowering his head. He stared up at her from beneath commanding eyebrows and released an air of vanity and authority that no one was terribly unfamiliar with in his presence, "There is nothing here that involves you." A double meaning tinted the words and, with any luck, she would catch that he was in fact referring to himself. Marian glanced off the phrase.

"Well, I just didn't know if it was security, something I could help with. You said something in Nettelstone, or…?"

"You are eavesdropping on my orders, then?"

"No, no. Not on purpose. I just came up to see you and overheard a thing or two, that's all." A simple smile stuck onto her alabaster face and irritated Guy; was she returning to her usual shenanigans? Maybe that was why she was feigning obsession with him of late. Leather creaked before he managed to blink and solidify his face into a stone threat.

"You know much better than to pry into official business of the castle; I don't want to have to punish you again for stepping out of line." His words tasted of the blossoming avoidance he had for her. Marian briefly flipped through records of nights in prison and house arrest that had all fallen from Guy. They were in love now, though, so he wouldn't dare. Her smile did not vanish. She stretched out and put a palm to his elbow before leaning her body into his and forming a warm embrace that he refused. Guy took a minute step back as her chest met his own, muscles repulsed from her like matching magnets, mind weighed heavy with guilt. Gisborne could not help but recall the moment he saw April witnessing his indulgence of a former passion. But, as he straightened his spine, he reassured himself that the process of redemption had already begun turning. As Guy wormed his way out and coolly departed Marian was left in a state of unrefined confusion. The raw lack of comprehension led her to thoughtfully chew a lip and huff; why had he been acting so weird in the past couple of days?

After making sure that his little affair was over it should have all settled. She had certainly put out a message, in fact, Marian had marked her territory in the dominating way of the animal kingdom. There was no way Guy's mind could be tempted by the orphanage or any of its workers, and yet Lady Knighton couldn't bury her hunch for all the money in the Sherriff's vault. Marian calmed her nerves by recalling just two nights ago when he had come to her chambers broken and needing her comfort. No one else could help, she told herself, Gisborne wanted her. He had kissed her with vigor and intensity. They had spent the shelter of night together as a pair who wanted nothing more than wine and company. They were a couple. Marian puckered her lips with the vow that she would not lose this perpetual affection; it had no prerequisites nor did it demand much sacrifice and, once she had surrendered to it, it lent the most assuring blanket of safety to her that she had known since her father ruled the county. She used every fiber of power she could find to push the concept of April from her brain through the ear canal and out onto the floor where she could trot off and allow it to die. Marian of Knighton clung to her delusion as Gisborne powered ahead with only his true lover living in the realm of his imagination.


	15. It Will Not Be Long

They kept drawing nearer and nearer to the house against all of Melissa's wishes. Yellow sleeves protruded from silver skin that reflected all sunlight and focused it back up, gleaming out in a ray of blindingly pure white light. Her little brown eyes rested on the windowsill while her calves strained and burned to remain on tip toes. Eventually one of the two dozen castle workers returned her stare and scoffed.

"Why's Gisborne wasting his time with this lot again?"

"Didn't say," another loyal man replied with an equal level of attitude, "but I won't be the one to say no to an order." This welcomed a clamor of agreement that washed tiny Melissa away into a world of overpowering and brutish men that kept strolling around her home, swords on hip, grimace on face. She did what any toddler would do and shrieked in a victim's role as she dashed to April's quarters. Teenager Max grabbed out to settle her but missed, giving the child leeway to burst open the oak door, say nothing, and leap onto the hay bed all with her lungs reeling out cries of horror.

April darted upright and let maternal instinct flood her veins and capillaries; this was an alert for danger to her young. She held Melissa and pulled her head into her own soft breast, lying through her teeth that everything was fine. In reality April was oblivious to what the matter even was. Max also disregarded courtesy and let himself in before saying a word; his eyes, though, were apologetic.

"She's alright. Everyone is alright… for now."

"What on earth is going on?" April managed to get out over the dwindling sobs of the orphan.

"April, they're gonna kill us!" Melissa whelped. She furrowed her brows at Max, who shot down this ridiculous claim.

"Nottingham guards have been snooping around since sunrise. We have been putting together things to defend ourselves with –"

"Defend – what are you talking about? Why did nobody get me if we are in trouble?"

"Well nobody has threatened any of us… yet."

"Then how do you know they want to hurt you?" April countered with mild frustration. She had hoped that her efforts to raise these kids had led to trust and benevolence, but now that it was put to the test, they all turned to violent protection. She gave Melissa a kiss on the forehead before setting the child aside and rolling out of the bed. After a brief period of privacy she had laced herself into proper clothing and emerged to solve the swirling cloud of uncertainty that fogged through Kirkslee's orphanage. The hem of her powder blue dress tickled the dirt as April faked courage and swept outside to see the cluster of Vesey's men filtering over newborn grass with tools and lumber strung about. Her fingers were daintily picking up the skirt with strength as her mind drained into paranoia. Her emerald eyes became fixed on an overseer's dagger that dangled from his side; suddenly the only thing she could see was the Sherriff in his dank office, blade in hand, vile nature paraded. April then remembered the trenches in Gisborne's back and all that Nottingham castle was capable of. She shivered just before making her way up to what looked to be an importantly ranked officer.

"M'lady." He half-heartedly gave her. The guard sized her up with a moment of desire but solid minutes of professionalism. It only took a second for him to remember that his boss had claimed April for himself; the simple concept of crossing Guy petrified him. There was no level of animalistic cruelty that could fathom the sadistic and vengeful acts Gisborne would incur to anyone who tried to steal this girl away.

"I demand to know what is happening here." April squinted some in the sunlight, hoping that he couldn't see her eyes shift with insecurity. She never could lie or act and this brave façade was crumbling away like the ruins of the Druids.

"Putting up a building, ma'am."

"This is church property! You have no authority to do so."

"We are under the direct orders of Sir Guy of Gisborne, I suggest you take it up with him." A new voice piled in to the conversation. His sarcasm irked at April's gut but she was stuck on his gist; Guy had told them to build here? Was he taking advantage of their relationship to fashion a base camp?

"Well then bring me to him." She shakily returned with clumsy footing in an attempt to clamber for control over her own home.

"No need for that," came yet another voice from behind her, "he's right here." She whipped around with cellophane command and melted in the instant she saw him. Guy appeared quite smug as he looked down from his lifted chin; even in the commotion April felt her heart twinge with glee. His black hair traced above his shoulders as a breeze found its way over.

"Guy…"

"So, what do you think?" he beamed as he put his hands to her waist, feeling her deep inhale, wishing he could have the privacy to kiss those lips.

"I don't know what to think; what is all of this?"

"This," he motioned with a calloused hand, "is the second house for your orphanage." Small cogs wound in April's brain before his words soaked into the tissue. She focused into his gaze with doubt, but this was soon assuaged with the pride that shone from Gisborne's face; it was a very similar expression to that which a proud father would bestow upon a child of great achievement. The outer building would be devoted to sheltering the eldest children that demanded more space but in reality it was a token from Guy towards her.

"No, no, no, no sweetheart. I could never ask you to –"

"Nobody asked. I'm giving this to you… weren't you the one who told me everyone needs charity?" As his eyebrow escalated the self-righteousness that perfumed Gisborne clouded over the patch of yard the couple had taken up. April chuckled and let her arms encircle his torso, a mood of lightheartedness setting in.

"Hmmm yes. Now what charity is it that you think I need, Sir Guy?" Her candy tone tasted of nectar but Gisborne fell to a patch of seriousness.

"I think," he began before shifting his hold on her hips, "you need somebody to tell you that you don't have to do everything by yourself. You are not alone April, you never were, even in an orphanage. And I swear to you now that I am here… you can never be alone again." As he stooped to kiss the crown of her head he took in her scent of fresh lilies, intoxicating himself on her essence, and wading in the pool of her company. April smothered tears back into their ducts and refused to look in his face with the fear that Guy would see how right he was. She pressed her head into his shoulder and clutched the back of his jacket with resonating gratitude and modesty. A peaceful quite had globed around them before she pulled back and gave a distracting laugh.

"Well now you realize the youngsters will be jealous of the new home." April's lips yanked tight to artificially stimulate a whole new subject that did not have the reach to touch her. Guy, though, had an answer for this, too. His hard blue eyes targeted an officer and motioned towards a cart where several supplies were in waiting for use. The henchman drifted off to the wagon and pulled off a small crate, brought it to April and Guy, and bowed before stepping off. Gisborne crouched down and extended a hand; with a moment of hesitation she took the offer and met him near the soft ground of northern England. Black gloves slid off the top and extended to the bottom with a painfully slow buildup of anticipation, but April was sure he was doing this on purpose to tease her. Out of the box came a small whine and warm body.

At only four or five weeks the mastiff's head had already grown into the distinct and meaty bulk of the protective breed. Its stature was large for the age but still small enough to fit in one hand, the brown fur still silky from youth, the eyes still reluctant to wake for any reason. Guy lifted the puppy with a grin and handed it off to the woman he so desperately was trying to court. She let out a small squeal and clapped her hands before taking the baby mastiff and cradling it on her pale chest. With a couple of kisses she had already fallen in love with the orphanage's new dog and, though she had not been prepared to say it, also her beau.

"Guy, he's precious! I cannot even believe you… you have put me so far into your debt." She massaged behind the baby's floppy ears with cheery response. April could no longer cover the tears that were revolutionizing on her eyelids; Guy wiped one free drop away with a fizzing balminess that overtook his stomach.

"I do not want you to be obliged. I want to be forgiven." Gisborne pleaded. April slid her mouth to one side and pulled the dog up close to make room before stretching over and placing a kiss on his begging mouth. She would not say anything else on the matter, but they both knew it would not be long before all would be forgotten.


	16. Campaign

Sincere apologies for the ridiculous delay. I did not want my period of grief to infiltrate the story and run off into some direction I did not actually want for it, so here we are to carry on properly.

"I am so very worried about you." The Sherriff spoke with a dactyl tone, stubby fingers picking at filth underneath his nails. Guy glanced off and gave no answer. Warm light filtered in through the castle windows but its freeing sensation did not reach the back of the lounge where the men were; they stuck to the shadows where only the cold resided. Vesey champed at the rim on a fingernail and gestured his head for the guards to leave which, to no surprise, was honored immediately. So here Guy sat alone with his mutated form of a father staring down in patronizing disapproval. His breaths were drawn out, not able to come quickly due to the stone weight on his chest. For what, though, he did not quite have figured out. A guilt had burrowed into Guy for a seemingly arbitrary purpose.

"I have brought your territory out past the fringes of Nottingham. Your county has extended into both Leicestershire and Lincolnshire because of my men." He humbly brought up. This affirmation was not intended for Vesey, he realized. Rather it was a comfort that he had not failed or deserved any reprimanding on this day.

"Yes… But what are you doing while your men take villages, Gisborne? Hmm?"

"I do not understand." his deep voice admitted just before looking at his boss.

"From what I hear she is just outside of Nettlestone; and quite a pretty thing to be busy with." Vesey's eyebrow plucked up as Gisborne's lips taped together with a water tight seal. His eyes drifted again.

"She is not a distraction."

"I do not believe one word of that," The Sherriff served back immediately as he hurried closer to his associate, "Gisborne, everything and everyone is a distraction. Have you forgotten? All that is important is bettering yourself and your King, now I can't possibly see what whisking about with some girl is going to do to get John on the throne, and so help me…You cannot hope to make anything perfect if you are not perfect. Hone yourself. Practice. Be superior."

"She is perfect."

"Do what?"

"She is perfect." Guy muttered at an equally soft decibel as before. A foul and false grin found its way onto Vesey as he absorbed the entirety of the grave situation; he was losing his right hand man to feeling. Emotion. Who else would run an underground empire with unswayable devotion? He had molded Guy psychologically to ensure that he would die for the cause if necessary and now he wanted to be loved? Feelings would bury progress.

"My dear boy," he slid a hand onto the leather shoulder of the tortured Gisborne, "the last thing I want to see is you getting hurt, falling from grace. Nottingham castle will topple if it is focused on a little girl from your Sunday school." Sharpness found its way in due to the fact that Vesey could not contain himself or his panic.

"This has nothing to do with the castle." He assured.

"Is that so? A little bird told me that my resources had gone to build property for Kirkslee's Orphanage all last week… do tell me about that." The Sherriff's eyelids narrowed to a poisonous squint. Guy shot up, fired by anxiety, and walked towards the window. His efforts to help April were not something he could feel ashamed of and yet he so desperately craved to tear a shovel out and bury all evidence of it before his boss. The Sherriff held no remorse, no pity, no compassion, no soul, and that had been ingrained into Guy's behavior. He was starting to see, though, that the hand-woven shell of leather and harshness was not who he truly was. Gisborne had thoughts of his own and it scared him.

"There are forty children out there," he truthfully divulged, "and not one of us has the time to scrape stolen loot from their hands here in town. Best to keep them out of Nottingham and out of crime."

Vesey nibbled his bottom lip and allowed his mind to shoot down multiple railways of logic; he had lost control of Gisborne and he had to find a way to clasp it back into his grip. What better way, he pondered, than utilizing his new weakness?

"Forty you say? Hmm that's quite a lot, you're right, Gisborne. They don't belong in town…" Vesey sucked a chunk of air between his teeth and met his companion at the glass pane, "Perhaps they would do better elsewhere."

"Sire?" Guy crooked his head to an angle and swallowed hard.

"Well now that the border with Lincolnshire is a bit messy I think some childlike innocence is in order, don't you?"

"Bargaining chips?"

"Soldiers." The glee in his voice clung to stagnant air. The Sherriff darted his eyes about with elation not unlike the unrefined joy of a child showered with gifts and sweets and rubbed the tips of his fingers together, as if sealing the details of the idea by hand.

"What?" the breathlessness spoke for itself.

"Oh, Gisborne, yes. Oh it will be beautiful; you shall lead a campaign of these little dirt children to take the frontline hits and wear out the enemy before the cavalry comes in, and who knows, maybe in the Holy Land –"

"That is disgusting!" Guy heard himself blurt out with a spit moments before a pang of worry sank in for his backtalk.

"What is disgusting, my boy," The Sherriff stepped closer, "is that as the face of this castle you are going to go to your little girlfriend's hut and tell her to that pretty little face that all of them are now mine. Or should I say, ours," He patted the man of leather on his shamed cheek and trotted out after saying, "And do know that I expect to hear back from her. If she doesn't get this message, well… I shall have to see that she is punished for ignorance." Guy slammed a palm to the stone wall before the hot sensation crawled up his spine and into the juices of his brain. He had to go to April, he had to run to her, he had to tell her. What they would do from there, he couldn't imagine, but he could not bear this without her.


	17. Do You Ever Get Used To It?

Okay kiddos, we are gonna play a game! Somewhere in this chapter is a quote and extra credit goes to whoever can pick it out and tell me what it is from!

Once Guy approached Nettlestone moisture had crept into the ground for slumber in the night as darkness forced its own welcome. He paid little mind to the tickling draft that wandered through the area, nor did he notice the faint jingle of his uniform's buckles whining at each bump in the stallion's path. Every ounce of him was thinking about slender April and her kind smile, rosy round cheeks, and soft touch that could assuage any and all pains, superficial and scarred, internal and worn. He was scared she would hate him. After all, this was the only thing his tormented heart recognized.

Each time Nottingham did something Marian detested, it was Guy's fault. He hurt her. He did something dastardly in spite of her well known tastes when, in actuality, he tended to be nothing more than a messenger or cog in the machine of the castle. Was this simply Marian's temperament looking for a fight to pick at, or was this how women genuinely saw the world? Would April blame him for his boss' ridiculous concept? A swirling nausea washed up the idea of yes.

Gisborne was so caught up in paranoia that his haste did not allow much time to properly tie off his horse before skipping up to the orphanage; luckily, though, the horse knew much better than to break off and run wild. Perhaps it was his connection to his master, or perhaps it was his fear for the reprimanding, either way he stayed perfectly still and awaiting the next time he was needed. Guy progressed up the small hill and landed at the doorway as it swung open. April giggled through pouty pink lips and spread her arms for a hug.

"I saw you coming up the way, I wasn't expecting company!" she smiled as he wrapped his arms around the smallest taper of her waist. He held his wrist behind her and let out a heavy breath hoping to release some weight, but it did not help.

"April… my beautiful April," he place his hand beneath her chin and weakly beamed at her round and innocent eyes, "it is not good news that brings me here." She stroked through his raven hair rested it behind his ear without losing any warmth on her face. Although she reflected his somberness her light quality did not wither; although she had a newfound reservation for him her kiss held no hesitation. People may say what they like about Gisborne, she thought, but April's Guy was a different man than the one who resided in Nottingham. She wrapped herself at night with the comfort that he was that man for only her in their own little terrarium, their private corner of the world. Regardless of slander his arms were just right. April held his hand tight and brought her beau to the outlining fence of the property with a soothing view of shaded trees that appeared stenciled along the setting sun just past the wood.

"What could possibly go so wrong for such a wonderful man?" she shone at Guy, reclining her back on the post and catching his contagious and unsettling state of mind.

"I don't know how to tell you." He admitted with a minor wince. Gisborne leaned his elbows on the fence and dared not wander his eyes to the hopeful girl; he could not bear the exact moment her heart would break. Crickets began to butt in with their own tune in the dusking evening.

"You're leaving."

"Where would I go?"

"Away from me?"

"Never," Guy immediately responded as a breath of shock tickled his system. He locked his blue eyes to her green ones for an instant, persuading her not to be silly, and again drifted away, "But perhaps we should leave. Together." April was intrigued by not only this offer but the fact that it seemed utterly hollow.

"Guy, what is troubling you?"

"The orphanage… may not be the best place for you anymore. It is changing, and with it we should change. Make our own life."

"What?"

"Why can't we just leave everything –"

"Why can't you answer me?" April began getting a bit hot with impatience; Gisborne shut his eyes and gave in to the fact that he could not run from this. He could not hide the fate of these children from her, nor could he alter it.

"The Sherriff has decided to find new troops for his campaigns and he is going to start pulling from…" Guy motioned towards the homestead and mistakenly let his gaze fall upon her; the emotions seemed all over the board from disbelief into a dabbling of helplessness and regretful acceptance.

"From here? I don't… what? No, Guy. These are kids."

"Child soldiers, no guardian to worry about, no family to take them from. There's easily enough for a squad in there."

"Guy, they are children! None of them know how to fight, anyways!"

"They wouldn't be used as killers." He gave out matter of factly without noticing the sting to his words. This barren truth was rather inappropriate and gut wrenching, an idea that hit him in the ensuing silence. He heard the bubbling up of tears and hated himself for not handling the situation better.

"You are taking them out just to die!" April yelled at him with much more agony than spite.

"April, I have done nothing and I can do… nothing. This doesn't involve me. There may be a way to protect them as property of the church -"

"It's a state funded orphanage, Guy, you own them. You own their lives and apparently you own their coffins as well."

"Please do not blame me." He bargained soulfully before resting a hand on her shoulder. To his amazement she did not shove him away, nor did she verbally separate them. Instead April tumbled onto his chest and cried rather dry tears; she was still not in a place to absorb this information yet. She was overwhelmed and erratically breathing into Guy as he hugged her close. Minutes without oxygen sucked up Kirkslee's Abbey and refused to return the element, leaving them both stranded whilst inside dozens of youths had no idea their fate was sealed up in the hands of a stranger.

"You know, I had somebody come today to adopt one of our boys. Farmer. He called me a whore, said no one could love a person like you, and that if I could then I must not be wholly human myself," April blurted out with airy innocence as Gisborne's fingers tightened on her dress, "He told me stories of things that have happened to people around here… and I told him that his Guy and mine are different men of the same body. That no man is on the battlefield as he is at home and with that attitude I did not want him raising my child. You are the same man, but I can see that you are not. You carry the burdens of your other self, though, I know it."

"Yes." He muttered with a mild relief that somebody could see inside of his flesh and pull out these ideas that he struggled to form even within his own mind; April really did understand.

"And now these kids are expected to live with that, to carry their own crosses as well as the warrior's… It will destroy them." She predicted with the unspoken, and unlikely, assumption they would survive.

"Soldiers are everywhere, any man can do it." Guy assured her blindly.

"Do you sleep at night, Guy?" she inquired, "Do you feel satisfied with yourself as you sit down to take supper? Can you look in the mirror and forget guilt? Do you ever get used to it? The killing?"

"Faster than you can imagine." Gisborne unveiled and, with that, she fell quiet with the night.


	18. Salvage the Ruins

*** More apologies are in order. We have had yet another loss in our family only two months after my own father, so things have been less than predictable around the house. I have been out in West Texas for the past month for family and funerals, so do excuse my absurdly long absence. There is no question on whether I will abandon Guy and his travels; you will know when it is finished (if ever)! I hope that you can look past the wait and be bought off by the chunk of chapters I will now be throwing out. Let's get the reviews going again! ***

To assume that either April or Guy got a moment's rest that night would be ridiculous. The shorter of the two had moped about with the anxious knowledge that she held zero power and no opportunity cards to play; the Sherriff's sick ploy was to become an uncontested reality. Gisborne had passed the time wishing he could simply slaughter his employer and cease the nightmares, once in a while fantasizing about taking his own life and granting himself peace, but mostly dwelled upon knowing that he did not have the courage for either task. The most feared man in Nottinghamshire was actually a coward.

"I have heard stories of a man," April suggested as she served her partner a shallow mug of mead, "A man that could help us. He can always achieve the impossible." She developed a distant gaze that glassed over with desperation.

"No." was all the sour Guy returned, his muscles tightening all around his face.

"Well, you don't even know what I was going to say."

"Robin Hood will not even look at you, do you understand?" A hardness swallowed him as Gisborne gripped the cup. His fingers held wood but he could feel them sliding closer and closer to the brink of a cliff and he could not regain control, he could not slow down, he could not prevent his inevitable fall.

"He helps good people." she muttered.

"He is an outlaw, and you have no business mentioning criminals. Outlaws are vermin and they are dangerous, do you understand me?" he clasped onto her wrist with restrained force that only melted with her nod of agreement. He may be spiraling downward, but he refused to enlist his enemy for safety, "Besides, there is no such thing as good people."

"So what do you think of me, then?" April scoffed in a joking manner. Guy's gloved hand waved her off with a meek smirk as they both knew she enjoyed giving him a difficult time. Off the back of this she divulged to her lover that she was clueless as to the next chapter of her life; it was well aware that if she opposed Vesey on this matter she would be killed, but how does one just walk away? He never lent her an answer, but instead fixed himself upon the glossy sunrise that was warming the countryside. Deep oranges that reflected the flesh of fruit swept across wispy clouds above the trees. Red clouds bubbled up the fringe of the hill as Guy's expression dropped. It was not steam nor was is wind, it was dust. Dust that was trampled deep into the earth and dragged back up in the curvature of dozens of hooves; it was the cavalry. They were coming to claim the orphanage.

Back in the rigid security of Nottingham castle, Marian should have felt comfortable. She had every amenity conceivable at her doorstep and Vesey had even loosened her leash by a great extent, yet she felt ill. At what cost did her own freedom come? The washing nausea in her belly would not let Lady Knighton forget that she was in fact responsible for the fate of every orphan at Kirkslee's Abbey. Marian winced her eyes shut and wished away her decaying heart; none of this was supposed to happen. In a fit of jealousy, she had sprinted to the Sherriff of the county and spilled out a furious testimony against Sir Guy. She is the one who informed Vesey of the new building Gisborne ordered for the orphanage. She told him to punish April. She wanted the girl who stole her love to pay, but not at the price of children's lives. In a land of fantasy Guy would lose sight of the church girl and come running back to Marian in desperation, his fling being short lived as April remained in prison for using Gisborne. Yet the Sherriff devised his own system.

Marian could not restrain hot tears that burned the wells of her eyes as she moved restlessly about her quarters. She had been very clear that April was using an official for her own means, but Vesey was much murkier on his plan. It was not until she overheard soldiers saddling up that the young brunette realized he intended on harming the kids to strike; she could only feel more guilt for overlooking this technique he so favored. Why hurt somebody with a flesh wound that can heal when you can tear out their emotions and scar them for years? Yet how could a sane person predict a revenge such as this? There was no way Marian could live another day with herself knowing how many kids would be nothing but bodies in her name. It was also obvious that Guy could never forgive her for this act. She pounded her palms against her temples and recklessly sobbed at the sunrise; she could never have the power to undo this. But maybe she knew someone who could… she had been distant from Robin as of late, but she had not revealed that her heart truly lied with her keeper in the castle. With a few smiles maybe he could save them. If Guy could be used so easily as a puppet, so could the archer of Sherwood. Lady Knighton pounded out a letter and strapped it to a pigeon, water stains marring the note, and released him to the woods, praying in silence that her world could be salvaged.


	19. I Love You

** Reviews are great, I love hearing from you guys! Please and thanks!**

Sir Guy of Gisborne came down the hill with smoldering fury and hushed, surging strength. He seemed prepared for battle when he approached the wall of armored men on horseback. As the Sherriff emerged from the cloud of defense, Guy's chin lifted on a puff of arrogance and pride. He would never admit the curses and hate that ran laps through his mind at the sight of Vesey, but his employer was not nearly so stupid as assumed. He was fully aware of the despise and the begrudging attitude with which Guy carried this out; oh, the Sherriff ate it up.

"Ah, Gisborne, what a beautiful morning, isn't it?" Vesey's grin released foulness within the sheen of his jeweled tooth.

"Victory for Nottingham is always beautiful." he fibbed with exuberance. The leather of his jacket tightened as he traversed to wave over April, who timidly waited in the doorway, and protected his skin from the knowing glare of the leader of the county.

"And you, my dear, must be Miss April," The Sherriff boomed as her feet shuffled the gravel to his steed, "Or is it Gisborne yet? I mean, half of these kids are yours, right?" Guy rolled his head with a bitter sigh at the jab towards her; April, though, stood as still as a photo. She was wading in a shallow pond of uncertainty and humility before the regal official. Nobody shared the bald man's chuckle.

"Sire, I have agreed hand this orphanage to you… I will not dishonor our contract on the property." She choked out with a void in the slot for emotion. Clearly she was eating tears, but the strength of the man she loved kept her from collapsing. April knew this was a battle she could not win.

"Good," he chirped, waving soldiers in, "I expect this is the start of a wonderful relationship."

Guy couldn't help but feel stark naked and powerless as Vesey demanded she kiss his ring. Her subordinate compliance stuck a heat into Gisborne that itched almost as if a thistled branch had replaced his spine. The Sherriff proceeded to wave his hand in April's face, brushing her off, and trotted on to begin the cinematic loading of the paddy wagon. It was at this moment that she lost all grip on herself. Bubbled crying popped out from her with oxygen deprived gasps; Guy turned to clasp her shoulders as April toppled forward in agony, nearly launching into the moist grass as her knees gave up. He put his palm in her rich brown hair and held her sobbing close to his heart.

"April," he soothed, "My sweet, sweet April." Regardless of his efforts his girlfriend was simply inconsolable. Her knotted up fists beat into his chest with helplessness as chain mail plated men rifled through the orphanage, knocking in doors and examining children for potential. Gisborne looked to Vesey as she tore away, sprinting through the meadow and pounding down the earth. April's escape was swift and quiet. She held nothing against her beau but the environment was far too much; she could not breathe much less keep the sick down and stifled. There was no plan apart from far away, but the thick cement filling her lungs did not let the young girl maintain her pace. Guy let out a profanity and chased after her.

"Show keeps getting better and better." The Sherriff muttered to himself.

Guy hurried along through the growing weeds, sword swinging into his calf with each step, and hoped he was still going the right way. He had only seen her bolt with his peripheral vision, but realistically this was her path. It would go out the farthest from the horror. Stillness accompanied lush green trees that were thickening as he proceeded, but occasionally a bird would greet the traveler. As he came to a clearing a group of owls let out a mild screech and clumsily tore through young branches, ripping out leaves, and running to nestle in the safety of nature. He peeked through the gap they had left behind and saw a weathered barn with multiple holes in the roofing. Guy was sure that's where the birds were spooked from, so April could not be far. He trudged through a patch of blackberry bushes to the open door. Inside the dry smell of hay floated by, small bunches strewn about, but overall it was clearly emptied. Nobody had used it in years, until now, when he saw April's feet finish the top rung of a wooden ladder leading up to a second level.

Gisborne called out her name and continued the pursuit upstairs. She did not respond but April did halt, spinning on her heel, and looking right into his calm stare. Tiny wrinkles around his eyes deepened as handed her a smile. She plopped down on a mound of straw and watched him match her, unsure of what words were appropriate.

"Don't scare me like that." he finally said, sliding her hand between both of his.

"My life just keeps changing, Guy, I just… I don't know what to do. I can't believe they are all…"

"I will see what I can do to protect them, but I cannot make you promises I can't keep. I can promise you, though, that I will be here. April I will be with you no matter what. I could never lose you, I will not let you walk alone." Gisborne rambled out. Unlike his ex, April heard him out. She wanted to experience every drop of his emotions and feel his passion.

"Guy, you have no idea what it has meant to me to have you." She nestled her face into his shoulder and touched her nose lightly to his neck, stirring a nest of desire within him. The smell of her skin ignited his heart and washed over his mind.

"I love you." He heard himself whisper.

"I love you, too." April answered without moving. They both marinated in this moment and held to each other tightly, knowing that they would be nothing without the other. If they could survive this morning, there was nothing in this world that could stop them.


End file.
